A Gift
by Suzunomiko
Summary: The war is over. Voldemort is destroyed and the war hero is cracking down on all death eaters. A certain death eater decides to try and buy his freedom from the ministry... at the cost of his only son. Rated 'R' for later chapters.
1. Default Chapter

I whistle contentedly in my comfy ministry chair in my extremely overdone ministry office. I'll bet you knew this would happen, eh? The great war hero Harry Potter working as head of the Defense Against the Dark Arts Department at the Ministry of Magic? Well, I sure as hell didn't. I had no idea what I was going to do with myself until the war ended. I had killed Voldemort barely three days ago when I was offered this position. A cushy Ministry job with little work and lots of pay. Thank you. I think I'll take it.  
  
I barely had to do anything really. Most of the work is handled by the officers I appointed to keep track of things. There wasn't much resistance left. The war had ended two years ago. Voldemort dead. Death Eaters disbanded. Loyalists scattered hopelessly across the globe. What little I did have to do was taken care of quickly because, lets face it, Harry Potter is a natural at this stuff. Here I was, twenty years old and with nowhere to go but up. This job is what every wizard dreams of. It's the perfect environment for a war veteran in recovery. And you know what?  
  
It's reeeeeeeally boring.  
  
Mind-numbingly boring.  
  
I am now at the point where I'm prepared to throw things across the room… just to hear the impact.  
  
At a loss as to what else to do, I get out of my chair, stretch my legs, walk to the door and poke my head out. "Ron?" I ask.  
  
Ron is my personal secretary. I had to beg him to do it, mostly because he was afraid the employer / employee thing would mess up our friendship. Not likely, but it was an uncomfortable possibility. There was also the little work for lots of pay thing to deal with. Ron hates the thought of charity. It took me weeks to convince him that it wasn't charity, that I just wanted him to be there for me and help me when I needed a friend. And when THAT didn't work, I pinned him with my most pitiful 'PLEEEEEEASE, RON!?' stare, and the discussion was over. I was determined to do this for him. Of all the people in the world that actually deserved to have a good job, it was Ron. He'd fought at my right side the entire war. He'd been there coaching me on when I killed Voldemort. He'd always been there for me before as a friend and protector. Now I was repaying him for it. And I paid him well.  
  
He looks up from his simpler desk (though he still complains it's too much for him). He seems to have been busy doing something. Oops. "Uh, I'm sorry, Ron… Were you busy?"  
  
He blushes slightly and shakes his head. "Nah, Boss. Just writin' to 'Mione."  
  
It's my turn to shake my head now, "Again? She's married you know. To Victor?"  
  
"Yeah," he sighs sadly. "What is it, Boss?"  
  
"Why do you insist on calling me that? I thought you didn't want this to mess with our friendship?"  
  
"I call you 'Boss' because you ARE my boss, Harry." he answers cheekily. Then he smiles at me sheepishly, "And it irritates you."  
  
"Ah." I state simply, rolling my eyes.  
  
"So, what did you want?"  
  
"Company. It's so bloody boring in here that I'm tempted to see if I can break my unbreakable quill."  
  
He snickers and stands up, entering my office while I hold the door open for him. It isn't long before we're both lying on our backs on my abnormally large desk, drawing pictures on the ceiling with our wands. Now the ceiling has a weird pattern on it.  
  
----- --  
-----------  
  
Like I said. Boring.  
  
But it was just about to get very interesting. It was just past lunch when there was a knock on the door. We jumped off the desk and quickly pretended to be doing something. I coughed nervously before inviting them in. Two men that looked very familiar to me came in carrying a large square object covered with a red satin veil. It could have been anything. A dangerous animal I needed to take care of, a cursed object that ought to be locked up or destroyed… I was suddenly kept entertained simply by imagining what could be inside it. I was even more amused when the men announced what it really was.  
  
"Mr. Lucious Malfoy sends a gift for Mr. Potter. Sign here please."  
  
Oh, come on. I know better than that. "I'm afraid I cannot accept such a generous offer. Please send Mr. Malfoy my apologies."  
  
"He thought you'd say that. He said that if you don't want to open it, you're welcome to destroy it. He doesn't want anyone else to have it but you."  
  
I'll bet he doesn't. "Fine" I said, and signed for it. When they were gone I examined the box more closely, much to Ron's dismay. Ignoring the 'be careful, Harry', I looked it over. It was about three feet in height and likewise in width. I wanted to pull the veil off, but Ron stopped me with another one of his warnings. After shooting him a meaningful glare, I moved to open it. This time I heeded his gasp. "You can leave if you want, Ron." He shook his head. "You sure?" A nod.  
  
I wasn't going to push it. I pulled the veil off and saw nothing than a cherry box with gold hinges. There was no lock. I took the lid and slowly lifted it. The box collapsed when I did that, the sides falling open to reveal a red velvet bag tied with a gold ribbon. Griffyndor colors. Huh. Nice touch Malfoy.  
  
Ron nearly pissed himself when the bag moved. I quickly shushed him and pulled the ribbon. Now I nearly pissed myself.  
  
Curled up on the floor of my office was an indescribably beautiful young man with platinum blonde hair, silky white skin and stormy grey eyes that were currently void of any emotion. He was dressed in nothing more than a pair of skin tight black leather pants. The lean form slowly righted itself to a kneel and looked up at me like a confused puppy.  
  
"Hallo, Malfoy." I said coolly.  
  
Draco didn't so much as blink in response. He straightened himself and stood before me (at this time I noted he was about five or six inches shorter than me) and bowed his head in submission. Ron gasped and moved forward, wand drawn. I waved him away. I already knew what was going on. I could feel the curse flowing through Draco, and I needed to hear him say what he was sent to do before I countered it.  
  
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" I said, more of a statement than a question.  
  
His head raised and his hands went to my waist, resting there but not moving otherwise. We both ignored Ron's growl.  
  
His voice was blank, "I am here for you. I am yours."  
  
"I assume your father is giving you as a peace offering."  
  
"Yes." Draco replied. He was moving forward and pressing himself to my chest, wrapping his arms around my back and clutching at my shoulders.  
  
You poor boy… "What am I to do with you?"  
  
"Whatever you want. Beat me, curse me, fuck me, kill me… I am yours. Do whatever you want with me."  
  
I closed my eyes at this point. It was so very sad. Lucious would do anything for his own personal gain. It made me sick. "I want…"  
  
"Yes…?" Draco pressed against me harder. "What do you want? Tell me how to please you… I am yours."  
  
I took a deep breath and steeled myself. Then I pushed Malfoy away from me and pinned him to the floor, holding his hands above his head with one hand and drawing my wand with the other, which I pointed at his chest. Ron yelled.  
  
"I want to help you, Draco. FINITE INCANTATUM!"  
  
My magic surged through him, countering with the controlling curse and probably causing a significant amount of pain. Draco screamed, but I kept on. Draco Malfoy would rather die than live under a curse like that. I held him tighter, his squirming making it more difficult to concentrate on the spell. Not that I could blame him.  
  
"LET HIM GO, LUCIOUS! LET HIM GO!" I raged.  
  
I know you can hear me you bastard. How could you do this to your own son? Release him, or he'll die.  
  
Draco wailed in agony one last time, then went limp as my magic overcame that of his father's. He was free. Ron had collapsed and covered his ears during this. He never had much tolerance for the flashy showdowns. I got off Draco's unconscious form and went over to Ron.  
  
"You okay, Ron?" I asked, placing my hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Bloody Hell, Harry… Malfoy really did that to him. He sent his son to be slaughtered… or worse!" he gasped, close to tears.  
  
"Not so much of a prat now, is he?"  
  
"I'd be a prat too, if it'd save me from that. He never really hurt us, he was just frustrating."  
  
I nodded at that. It was true enough. Sighing, I took off my robe and wrapped Draco in it, laying him on my couch. Looking at him now, I realized he was thinner than I remembered. Come to think of it he had been taller than me before, now he almost looked sick, bottom ribs painfully obvious and cheeks slightly sunken in… Damn that Death Eater trash. "What are you going to do with him, Harry? You can't send him back there." Ron said the latter with finality. I smiled mentally.  
  
I thought you said you'd never forgive him?  
  
"No." I agreed. "Besides, It'd be rather rude to refuse such a wonderful gift." 


	2. Dragon's Tears

I forgot the disclaimer. Can you believe I did that? Well, here it is:  
These characters do not belong to me (no matter how much I wish they did). They belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm only borrowing them temporarily and will return them when they have finished the story and/or realize that what I'm paying them isn't nearly enough to cover what I'm making them do. But… how do I know they don't want to do it anyway? Hmmm… I love reviews. Everyone was so nice about chapter 1 that I just had to finish this chapter faster. I know it's evil but; The more you leave me, the faster I'll write. Perspective is probably going to change frequently since I'm obsessive/compulsive and can't seem to make up my mind, and sometimes it sounds funnier/more dramatic from a different point of view. I'm sorry if this is annoying to you, lord knows it is to me.  
Yes this is a Yaoi story. It should have been painfully obvious in the first chapter. I must warn you that any flames will be misquoted, distorted and used against you in later chapters.  
And now… chapter two.  
  
I watched Draco sleep, trying my damnedest not to say the choice obscenities I was thinking out loud as I vividly imagined all the horrible things I'd love to do to Lucius right now. I'd carried the smaller man back to my house, distressed by the lack of weight, and set him to rest in the guest bedroom across from my own. Once he was tucked between the crimson sheets and I got a good look at him I couldn't seem to tear myself away. He really was beautiful. Even now with his insipid gold hair ruffled hopelessly and the bruise on his cheek (which I was positive hadn't been there before) standing out against the stark pale of the rest of him, he made my breath catch in my throat.  
  
"Tell me how to please you…"  
  
I shuddered as those words repeated in my head. I could still feel Draco clinging to me, hot breath ghosting over my neck… I shook my head violently to banish those thoughts. Draco would have a hard enough time recovering from his ordeal without me trying to shag him silly. I turned to leave, not trusting myself to stay in the room with him any longer, only to turn back as Draco stirred in his sleep. He pulled the blanket tight around himself and curled up into a ball, whimpering softly. I watched a moment more and swore inwardly when he whimpered again and muttered incoherently.  
  
Nightmares. I sat next to him, being as careful as I knew how not to wake him and ran my fingers though his hair. He seemed to calm a bit, but still continued to shift restlessly. Holding my wand over him, I whispered a charm for dreamless sleep and sighed in relief when he stilled, breathing evenly through slightly parted lips. Satisfied that my guest would rest easily tonight I went to my room across the hall, leaving the door slightly ajar incase he woke during the night.  
  
Warm. It was so warm. The feeling was sure to pass quickly, so Draco allowed himself to feel it for all it was worth. It had been so long since he'd been moved to a bed. Father usually just left him where he fell when the 'lessons' got to be too much for him. Father would be coming for him soon, right?  
  
Right?  
  
Opening his eyes, Draco pulled the blanket back off his head and was hit with an obnoxiously bright stream of sunlight. He shut his eyes quickly, blocking out the offending luminescence. He resolved to go back to sleep before his sleep-muddled brain registered that he had seen lots of red. His eyes shot open. This wasn't his room, nor any room in the manor. Not only was it too small, but far too simple as well.  
  
The walls were white plaster, not the blue-grey stone he was accustomed to. The floor was light wood, and all the fabric within was either crimson or gold. With the sunlight pouring in through two large windows that were directly facing east, the colors were way too bright and hurt his usually nocturnal eyes. Being a true Slytherin, the first thing that popped into his head was "Damn you, Gryffindors and your stupid colors…" ; the second was "Where the hell am I?"  
  
I woke at dawn, probably prompted to because of the knowledge of the young man sleeping just across from me, and checked to see if he was awake first thing. Not surprisingly Draco was still curled tightly in the blankets, so tightly that I had to wonder how he was able to breathe like that. I didn't worry since I could clearly see the fabric rise and fall rhythmically. I was relieved to see that he was still sleeping. He was likely to be confused, and was probably going to have a lot of questions when he woke up, and I didn't look forward to trying to answer them.  
  
I headed downstairs to make some breakfast for the both of us, and fleetingly wondered what Draco liked to eat or, more accurately, what he was used to eating. Given his current condition I didn't think he'd be too objecting to a hot meal. After throwing together a couple of omelets, some toast and two rather large mugs of tea I headed upstairs with tray in hand. The sun had risen quite a bit and the light was sure to wake him as it had me before I'd switched to the adjoining room.  
  
I peeked through the opening I'd left in the door last night and saw Draco sitting up in the bed, eyes darting around the room anxiously. I grinned when I saw him in the nightshirt I'd put him in. Damn, but he looks GOOD in blue. Not wanting to burst in on him I pushed the door to open it a bit more and knocked lightly, wincing when he jumped as if stung. His head whipped around to face me, our eyes met… and we stared. He gazed at me for long moments, like he didn't recognize me. Then something snapped. A tirade of emotions flickered through his eyes. Recognition, disbelief, fear, pain, and finally… abandonment. He knew.  
  
shit.  
  
Draco's eyes watered and he gasped with the resolve of a toddler getting ready to scream. I put the tray on the dresser and went over to him, preparing to restrain him should he panic and try something… regretful. I hadn't been expecting something like this so soon. Draco struck me as the kind of person to go into denial instead of heading straight to the grieving phase. Perhaps denial had passed a while ago…  
  
I paused within reaching distance of him, waiting for him to do something, say something, but he didn't move. He sat there gasping, holding back tears that I knew he had to get out sooner or later. Finally one fell, then another, and he started trembling with the effort of suppressing an all-out fit. I kneeled next to the bed, placing my hand close to his but not touching, and waited. He stared into space, refusing to meet my eyes again for so long my legs began to fall asleep. Then, at last he took a few deep, steadying breaths.  
  
"He… He d-did it. The s-sick bastard actually did it…" he whispered.  
  
Draco's hands went to his head, grasping his hair so forcefully I feared he was going to pull it out. He shook his head violently and the sobs intensified until his entire body was wracked with the force of it. Unable to watch any longer, I got up on the bed and pulled him to me. His reaction was… unexpected. Draco screamed, struggling fiercely.  
  
"Let me go! LET GO!" he screamed, the scream developing into a shriek.  
  
I held on with all my strength, knowing that the moment I released him he'd either attack me or run… neither idea was very appealing to me. I don't know when I started talking to him, but it seemed to be working. I was so concentrated on the man in my arms that I wasn't listening to what I was saying. I don't think he really heard me either, the simple fact that my tone was gentle and the familiar sound of his own name repeated over and over must have calmed him more than anything else.  
  
Finally the fit was over. He still shook with the aftershocks, but the screaming had stopped and he appeared to have cried himself dry. I loosed my hold on him, stroking his hair with one hand and whispering nonsense phrases into his ear. He needed to be held, to be soothed and reassured. I wasn't going to let go until he pushed away. He mumbled something and leaned back. I released him, resting my hand on his shoulder. Draco still wouldn't face me, staring at his knees.  
  
"Better?" I asked softly. He nodded marginally. "Are you hungry?" Another nod.  
  
I squeezed his shoulder briefly, then retrieved the tray with his breakfast from the dresser and set it on the nightstand. His hands trembled as he held the mug up to his lips and he drank slowly, letting his stomach adjust. He set it down after a few minutes and sighed lightly. Kneeling in front of him again, I tipped his chin so he would face me. Reluctantly he met my gaze.  
  
"Try to eat, okay? The shower's in there," I indicated the door to his left. "Pick something from the dresser and come downstairs whenever you're ready. I'll do my best to answer any questions you might have. You're welcome to stay, so don't worry about having to leave anytime soon. Understand?" He nodded obediently. "I'm going to leave you alone now, do you think you can handle this by yourself?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
I smiled. "Alright." I said, and stood. "Before I go, you need to promise me something. I know you've been through a lot, and I can't imagine what you must be feeling. Not that I think you will, but I want you to promise you won't try to hurt yourself…"  
  
Draco looks up at me indignantly, and for a moment I recognize him, but it is gone all to soon.  
  
"I promise." He whispers.  
  
I nod and with one last squeeze of his shoulder, I leave to wait for him downstairs.  
  
This chapter sucks. - suffering from total vocabulary failure. I promise the next one will be better. 


	3. Memories

Thank you all so much for the nice reviews! For those of you that asked so nicely, Lucius bashing is incorporated into this chapter. And also, for those of you that asked, yes there will be either ludicrously strong citrus and/or lemon in later chapters. Please be patient with me, this isn't easy to do on my college schedule, so don't hurt me if I'm a little late with an update or two. Suggestions are very much appreciated and will be seriously considered if you feel like giving me any. bows Pretty please?  
Mumbling is heard in the background  
Yes, Draco is very yummy, isn't he? Harry's yummy, Draco's yummy, Ron's yummy… WE'RE ALL YUMMY!! Rereads last sentence Wow… that was a little redundant. I apologize for the lapse into the Rocky Horror universe.  
I suppose I've babbled long enough… ON WITH THE STORY!!

One would expect Draco Malfoy to be disgusted with the fact that his nemesis had recently become his caretaker, carried him home and dressed him for bed like a helpless child. One would also assume he was embarrassed and more than a little pissed at himself for allowing the other man to watch him break down like that. Looking at his outside appearance neither seemed the case. The blonde was currently sitting dejectedly on the bed with a neutral expression and poking at his breakfast without much real interest in eating it. He had promised to try though, and thought it only fair to move it around a bit to make it appear as if he'd at least considered it. His bottomless grey eyes were devoid of emotion, the typical Mlafoy barriers back up to prevent himself from thinking too much.  
  
It wasn't that he wanted to block people out. Well, most people anyway. It was that he hated himself for what had been happening to him since before he could remember. He'd relished his time at school since Hogwarts was the only place in the world he would be mostly safe from the iron fists of his father and the Dark Lord alike… trying to beat him into shape like a blacksmith pounds a lump of metal. Being the evil overlord in training has it's perks and all, but it isn't exactly a desirable occupation. He thought that if he hid his pain from himself and everyone else then it would eventually stop hurting. Up until recently it had worked.  
  
Now if he could just get through this…  
  
Maybe Potter wasn't all that bad.  
  
Sighing, Draco forced himself to take a couple of bites out of the toast, fearing anything more might make him sick. He finished the tea and set the tray back on the nightstand, feeling a little guilty about wasting Potter's simple, though very much appreciated, generosity. Leaning against the wall for support, Draco maneuvered himself inside the small room that had been pointed out to him earlier. It took him a while to figure out the muggle knobs in the shower, but soon had a steady stream of very warm water going. Not knowing exactly why, the blonde locked the door securely behind him before pulling off the nightshirt ("Why is it BLUE?") and stepping into the soothing comfort of a nice wash.  
  
Harry paced anxiously downstairs. He could hear the water running on the floor above him and knew very well that he was being silly, but couldn't get the image of the smaller man's rather frantic episode out of his head. It had hurt him more than he expected. He hated to admit it to himself, but he was fairly positive that any of his friends in that same situation couldn't have roused as much passion in him as Draco had. So many things had gone through his mind as he held him; revenge being foremost in clarity. Having already taken so many lives in the great war, including that of the man who murdered his parents and Godfather, he knew very well that killing just wasn't something he liked to do. Even during the final showdown with Voldemort he hadn't actually WANTED to kill the evil bastard… whether he deserved it or not.  
  
Now he did.  
  
Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, Destroyer of Lord Voldemort, and the greatest hero the wizarding world had ever known was literally fighting with himself over murdering Lucius Malfoy in cold blood. He knew beyond any doubt that if he slaughtered the man right now he wouldn't have any regrets, and would probably enjoy it to boot.  
  
Draco wanted to stay in that shower forever. Once he'd gotten used to the feeling he'd turned on the water as hot as it would go and sat in the tub, losing himself in old wounds. Well, maybe not so old. Closing his eyes he allowed the memory of five summers ago to drift up and replay in his mind.  
  
_He didn't know where he was. One minute he was lying on the floor of his father's room under the crucious, the next he'd found himself in a strange bed in strange pajamas. His entire body ached when he tried to move, a clear sign he'd been under the curse long after he'd lost consciousness. He grunted with the pain, then settled back and decided to just enjoy the feeling of being alive. As he lay there in the dark, he found himself retracing his steps from last night. Suddenly, he remembered something new.  
  
He had awoken before. He'd been in his father's bed then. And his father was…  
  
Draco barely made it to the waste bin before heaving into it. He remembered vividly now. He'd been raped. By his FATHER. In his own home. He wanted to die, now feeling those hands on him as if he were still there. He continued to retch, noticing a pain that he hadn't noticed before… it had been so mixed up with the rest of it that he hadn't even known it was there. He didn't know when he'd begun to cry, but he was. And he was loud. The vomiting ceased moments later, along with the dry heaves. His stomach was empty. So he sat on the floor and cried, not caring if anyone heard.  
  
The sound of footsteps registered surprisingly well, considering the noise he was making. The sound stopped directly in front of him and he glanced up to see who it was.  
  
"Godfather!" he cried, launching himself into the other's arms. Snape held him awkwardly, yet lovingly; not accustomed to comforting anyone but determined to help Draco. The moment ended all too soon, just as Draco was beginning to feel better he found himself lifted back up on the bed. He sent a questioning glance at the man.  
  
"Draco… Godson, I had expected you to sleep longer… The doctors are coming soon. They need something from you." he began in an unfamiliar tone. Draco took a breath before speaking.  
  
"Need… what?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Snape took a breath now.  
  
"To prove what your… Lucius did to you… they need something." he explained brokenly. Suddenly, Draco understood. He backed away.  
  
"No."  
  
"I'm sorry, but it has to be done. If you don't want to go back there…"  
  
"NO!" he screamed, struggling fiercely. They couldn't… He didn't want anyone to touch him.  
  
"Draco, please!" Snape yelled, trying to get the teen under control. Draco shrieked, took a swing… missed. Swearing loudly, Snape pinned the boy to the bed, spreading his legs forcefully. "Immobulus!" Draco couldn't move, but he was still crying. Calmly, Snape leaned down and placed a trembling kiss on Draco's forehead. "I'm so sorry, Draco. Silencio." With that done, Snape began to undress the prone form of his Godson. Then with one solemn look, he left so the doctors could do their work.  
_  
Draco's shoulders shook with the force of an oncoming fit. The semen sample had mysteriously disappeared during the night, making his ordeal completely useless. One of the doctors was a Death Eater, so he had no doubts as to what had happened to it. He swore through his teeth, resisting the urge to cry. He knew that was exactly what he needed… another good cry, but he held it back with nothing more than a tattered will. Harry was right downstairs, and though a cry would have made him feel infinitely better… he could never seem to do it without screaming.  
  
Harry continued to pace, getting angry now. What was taking him so long? First a half-hour shower, then the water had stopped, and forty-five minutes of nothing. He wondered if the man had fallen asleep after his shower, and resolved to go upstairs and have a look. When he turned to go up however, Draco was standing at the top of the stairs. Harry gasped.  
  
Draco paused at the top of the staircase, watching Harry pace back and forth, muttering to himself. He hadn't meant to take so long, but once he'd started going through the dresser he simply couldn't resist trying on everything in it. He had to admit, muggle clothes or not, they were nice. Harry really knew how to shop. He'd ended up in a pair of inky-black jeans and a button-down shirt embroidered with flames and dragons. There had been three such shirts in the dresser, each a different color. Though he'd been sorely tempted to wear the green one, he had found (after a rather lengthy assessment in the mirror) that he really DID look good in blue. He'd let his shoulder length hair hang loose around his face, seeing as how he couldn't find a hair band.  
  
Suddenly Harry turned, staring right at him. The gasp was unexpected, and Draco wondered if he'd worn the wrong clothes. Shifting self-consciously, he tried not to look away and seem too nervous. He'd never paid much attention to muggle style, and wasn't exactly sure the colors matched. He held his breath trying to interpret that stare. Angry? He blinked. Aroused? Harry didn't move for a long time. Finally, he went halfway up the staircase and offered his hand. Draco took it gratefully and allowed himself to be led into the sitting room. Once there he took his place in a large and overly stuffed recliner, while Harry sat across from him on the couch. Harry had his chin resting on his fists just… looking at Draco. He seemed to be pleased with something. Draco didn't want to interrupt… whatever this was, but he felt comfortable with it and simply let it drag on. When the taller man spoke at last, it was so sudden that he startled Draco, and he had to ask him to repeat himself.  
  
Harry smiled. "I said, you look gorgeous. That color suits you. And the dragons."  
  
Draco instinctively opened his mouth to argue, but his voice didn't want to work properly. He was reduced to a simple nod. Why did Harry's voice have to be so… deep? Did he have to stare so intensely? Begging himself not to blush, he waited for Harry to say something he could respond to. When that didn't happen and the other man continued to stare at him, it was Draco who was forced to break the silence. He took a deep breath to steady himself, then voiced the words he'd been putting off for quite some time.  
  
"Thank you. I'm not used to anyone being so nice to me. I can't tell you how much this means… I owe you my life. I mean… just… Thank you." he finished softly, hoping he didn't sound too lame. He pulled his legs up and hugged them to his chest, putting some kind of barrier between him and Harry. The gaze had become even more intense as he faltered. It wasn't frightening him, it was just making him… uneasy.  
  
"You're very welcome." Harry said, smile never wavering. "Did you eat much? I didn't know what you like…"  
  
Draco grinned at him over his knees. He'd finished it all after his shower. Being clean was definitely a boost to his appetite. "I ate everything, actually. But I left the tray upstairs… should I get it?"  
  
"No." Harry said a little too quickly. He didn't want to let Draco out of his sight just yet. Besides, he'd probably have to go up there later and fold everything and put it back in the dresser. He coughed lightly in apology, trying not to laugh at the mental image of Draco standing in the middle of that room… all Harry's clothes strewn about… "I'll get it later." Draco lifted an eyebrow at this, but held his tongue on the subject. The conversation dropped there. Draco didn't know what to say. Harry DID, but he didn't want to. He really had no choice though. Sighing, he softened his gaze. "Draco?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"What happened? How did you end up in my office last night?"  
  
The change was immediate. Draco's eyes drifted to the floor, bottom lip caught between his teeth. He sat straight up with his feet firmly on the floor, hands gripping the arm rests as if he were bracing himself for a roller coaster ride someone had forced him onto. "That's…" he began tensely, "a very long story."  
  
"Do you feel up to it?" Harry asked gently, not wanting to push him. Draco's eyes closed, considering.  
  
_Do I? Can I tell him? No… I can't. Not yet anyway_.  
  
Slowly, silently begging Harry not to continue, Draco shook his head. Harry sighed and sat back on the couch, and for a moment Draco feared he might ask him again. Harry sat up and his eyes were tainted with an unknown emotion. "Draco…" he began softly, "Do you love your father?"Okay… so not so much Lucius bashing as I thought, but hey! I'm making this up as I go along. Please note that most of this was written around four A.M. during the best damn sugar high I've had in YEARS!! You can't put an outline down for a masterpiece! Please don't flame me about the Harry/Draco thing, I get enough about that at home. Will update soon! 


	4. Lessons'

I apologize profusely for the delay in this short, albeit very angsty chapter. I've recently acquired a job, something I've been trying to do for a while now. Now I not only have a full-time college schedule to deal with, but a full-time job as well. I'm surprised I can find time to sleep and do my homework let alone write about my two favorite characters in the world. Er… aside from Hiei and Kurama that is. This story will NOT be discontinued, nor will the update schedule be too terribly askew. I'll do my absolute best to ensure that no update hiatus will exceed two weeks. You have permission to E-mail your complaints if it does.  
  
I was reading The Prisoner of Azkaban and found my favorite Malfoy quote of the entire series so far. If you have better ones PLEASE send them to me and I will post them in the next chapter if I can.  
  
"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Malfoy sneered. "We should have STROKED them! Why didn't we guess!"  
  
And now onto the story.  
  
Slowly, silently begging Harry not to continue, Draco shook his head. Harry sighed and sat back on the couch, and for a moment Draco feared he might ask him again. Harry sat up and his eyes were tainted with an unknown emotion. "Draco…" he began softly, "Do you love your father?" The question threw him. Draco groaned loudly, hiding his face in his hands. This was the last thing he needed right now. But it was important to know, wasn't it? "You don't have to answer…"  
  
Sighing, Draco resigned himself to think. It shouldn't be so hard a question to answer, he knew, but it was far more complicated than simple abuse. At least, to him it was.  
  
_Lucius whips Draco again, bringing the cane down on the boy's back with all his might. Draco had long since lost the ability to scream, his throat so raw from the previous 'lesson' that no sound would come. Blood is pooled on the floor around him so far that one must wonder how any is left in his body. The force of the cane should very well be enough to snap his spine in two. Lusius increases the fury of his blows, unable to make them any harder but quickening the pace instead. Draco is coughing up blood now, the fractured ribs beginning to warp and bend under the pressure of the relentless attack. He should have died long ago, when Lucius put the choice of the boy's life in the hands of Voldemort. The sadistic creature who was now watching the spectacle with voyeuristic glee. And yet he survives. Somehow or another, he always survives.  
  
But only just.  
  
Draco's attention is drawn to Voldemort when he hears an odd sound coming from the old monster. He turns his eyes in his direction, ignoring the inevitable nirvana of such an action in his state, and nearly gags. The bastard is stroking himself while watching Draco's father beat him half to death. This almost makes him faint, a thing that would have been a great mercy to the child, but Lucius is having none of that.  
  
"Crucio."  
  
Draco makes noise now, though it resembles nothing human in it's animalistic intensity. And even that is barely heard over the blows still coming from the senior Malfoy's free hand. Voldemort hisses his completion and Lucius stops, waiting for his next command. Drco prays for darkness to take him, for death to free him from his torment, but it's no good. Lucius knows exactly what he's doing. The snakelike creature hisses something Draco cannot decipher in his pain-induced stupor, and as his father picks him up he thinks the lesson may be over at last. It is not to be, though. Draco's eyes widen and his mouth opens in a silent scream as his father, the man he once trusted completely, thrusts into him.  
  
Lucius does not move, but supports the squirming boy in position with his hands under his knees, waiting for further instructions. Voldemort crooks his finger and Lucius walks, Draco in hand, toward the creature. Once in front of his lord Lucius forces his son onto his hands and knees, wringing his hand into the platinum blond hair and pulling Draco's head up to give his master better access to his prize. Voldemort speaks, and this time Draco does understand.  
  
"Open your mouth, boy."  
  
Draco had no choice. He complied dejectedly, gagging at the size of the man. Voldemort growled in frustration, Draco's jaw unable to open enough to accommodate him. Lucius, barely able to hold his hips steady while the ring of muscle grabbed at him, tilted his head in confusion to his lord's reaction.  
  
"What's is it, Master? " Lucius questioned, panting. "Is he not pleasing you?"  
  
"He is too small." Voldemort hissed.  
  
"Perhaps if we dislocate the jaw…" came the suggestion.  
  
"No. Then he would be too loose." Voldemort was getting irritated, and Lucius would have to take the boy's place if he could not come up with a solution.  
  
"Forgive me, Lord. I don't see any way to get past his teeth." That prompted an evil grin from the old sadist. Lucius knew what he was going to say the moment he saw that feral smile.  
  
"Take them out, then." he ordered.  
  
Lucius gasped. "Master, he goes to school in a week. They will be difficult to regenerate in such a short time…" The ensuing threatening hiss was all it took to freeze the sentence right there. Pulling out, Lucius turned Draco over onto his back and raised his fist…  
  
_Draco was distantly aware of someone screaming. He didn't know who it was, but they sounded awful. Were he able he would have tried to comfort them, but he was just so tired… He felt cold, as if his entire being had been dropped into the lake in the middle of winter. Gradually the screaming stopped, and he found himself feeling very warm. A familiar voice drifted up out of the darkness…  
  
"Draco! Draco, don't be scared… I've got you. I won't let them hurt you now."  
  
He melted into the warmth, desperate for any kind of comfort from the cold dark of his mind. He realized it was him that was sobbing, clutching onto the solid body of the man holding him. The voice kept it's gentle coaxing, never growing harsh or impatient with him.  
  
"That's it… Just breathe, Draco. Good. Sweet Draco…"  
  
He was afraid to open his eyes, terrified that this might be a dream and he'd awaken in the arms of Voldemort and Lucius. Helpless to stop them from using his body as a plaything for their sick amusement.  
  
"Look at me, Draco. I need you to look at me. I'm so sorry… I didn't mean to make you remember those awful things. You don't have to tell me. Just please, stop crying…"  
  
Draco Malfoy opened his stormy grey eyes and gazed at Harry Potter. The-Boy-Who-Lived. The Destroyer of Voldemort. The keeper of his heart.  
  
"Harry…" Draco whispered. "No."  
  
Harry's eyes widened, fearing Draco wanted to be let go. "No?"  
  
"The answer. You asked if I loved my father. I did once, I really did… But I was never anything more than his obligation… his toy. The answer is no."  
  
Waddaya think? Sorry again for the delay. I REALLY need to sleep now. BYE! 


	5. Night Terrors

I hated to hold this one so long, but I kind of had to pack for the move the last few days, and I had a bit of a shock to recover from. My boyfriend proposed! I am now engaged to the dedicated, hard-working, and very much yummy Joshua (who, coincidentally, has dark hair and a scar on his face. Yay for me!).  
  
faints from shock  
  
Fun. But, anyway…  
  
I humbly ask for somebody to submit a Malfoy Quote with their review. I wanted to put one up, but all my books are packed. cries Lucius or Draco. Whatever you want.  
  
Anyway, here's the next chapter.  
  
_Draco opens his eyes slowly, biting back the nausea that usually accompanies his progression into consciousness. He notes, with no small amount of shock, that he is unable to move. He groans painfully, avoiding any movement as he was positive he would be sick if he so much as coughed. Draco certainly felt like hell had warmed over, but he was thoroughly enjoying the feeling of being alive after such a ruthless beating. Lucius had held nothing back that time.  
  
Draco concentrated on analyzing his condition without moving, and found it easy considering the extent of his injuries. He knew that his legs were broken, as he'd heard and felt the snap of the bones last night. His wrists were broken as well from the unnecessarily tight manacles that held him to the headboard. Of all the things that he'd endured he remembered the whip with the most clarity, as he had been subjected to that first, and by the time his legs had snapped he was too numb and dazed to actually feel it much. It wasn't the first time he'd been beaten so badly, but it was the first time in over a year and he just knew he would be recovering for a good while.  
  
Suddenly he heard footsteps coming toward his door. Quickly he pretended to be asleep and did not move an inch when the door opened and two hooded figures stepped inside. They made their way to the bed and simply stood there, staring at Draco. Then, one of them spoke.  
  
"I have to admit, Lucius, that Glamour spell works wonders for the boy." said a voice Draco didn't recognize. The figure that had just spoken reached out and touched his hair, running his thick calloused fingers through it. "He looks perfectly healthy." The other figure nodded.  
  
"I thought you would approve. How is your daughter reacting to the match we've made for her? Will she bear the next Malfoy heir?" Lucius' voice resonated haughtily.  
  
"She is uncooperative so far. But she is being… persuaded. You will have a grandson soon enough. As agreed I've signed over guardianship of the child to you. As for the mother, do what you want with her. I already have an heir. Women are of no matter to me."  
  
"Excellent. They will conceive in a weeks time. Then I can finally get rid of this weak, worthless beast of an heir." Lucius slapped the prone boy as he said this, either not noticing or not caring when Draco whined and squirmed in response. Lucius turned to leave, but paused when he noticed the other figure wasn't following.  
  
"May I ask you something, Lucius? " The elder Malfoy didn't respond, so the man took it as a 'yes'. "Would you consent to let me have the boy? If he is of no use to you, I could certainly use him to… relieve some stress." Draco didn't have to see it, he could FEEL the nod sent his way.  
  
"Why not? Once I possess a more appropriate heir you may have him. For a price."  
  
"Why, Lucius! How can you expect me to pay for something I haven't even tested yet? It's bad business, you know." Draco's eyes watered in absolute terror as his father turned and left the room, locking the door behind him. The figure quickly stripped himself and lay on top of Draco, crushing his already battered body into the mattress. The fat, calloused hands ran all over him before wringing themselves in his hair and tilting his head to allow better access for a savage bite to the neck. Draco made no noise, and it angered the man. He punched Draco, hard.  
  
"Scream, boy. This won't be as much fun if you don't."  
_  
Draco sat up so quickly he nearly launched himself out of the bed. He had a hand clamped over his mouth to keep himself from making any noise. Once he had succeeded in remembering just where he was and was positive he wasn't going to scream, he slowly let the hand drop to his side. Draco sat there in a cold sweat, trembling and panting from the nightmare. He wanted desperately to get up and turn on the light, knowing it would help him calm down, but he couldn't seem to make his body move.  
  
Draco thanked Merlin that Harry had destroyed Voldemort no more then three days after that incident, and he had no sons that would suffer his childhood. Lucius had more pressing matters to worry about after that. He'd never found out who that man was, or witch girl they were planning to use as the Malfoy broodmare, but he was sure she had escaped that fate with the demise of the Dark Lord as well.  
  
It had been a week since he'd been 'given' to Harry. Draco still wasn't sure what to make of the other man's obsession with keeping him safe, but he wasn't about to push his luck with questions. He knew Harry cared for him a bit more than was customary, but he'd claimed rather gently that Draco belonged to him now, and he took very good care of his belongings. They'd reached a comfortable equilibrium in the past few days; in the morning Draco would take his shower and go downstairs for the breakfast that Harry always had ready for them. They would eat and talk about nothing in particular, then do the dishes together and go out. Draco had been curious about where Harry Potter lived now that he had fulfilled his destiny and all, so he'd asked to go exploring. Harry had taught Draco so much about the muggle town he lived in that the blonde was now able to navigate the streets without being too obvious that he was new to the whole thing. Some of his new mad skills included the ability to convert Galleons to Pounds, avoid using wizarding terms in any conversations (even with Harry), and he'd amazed the other man with how quickly he picked up on muggle fashions… and he'd even invented his own versions of them. They would spend the day wandering aimlessly, stopping when they wanted anything, and then head home at dusk. Harry would make dinner, attempt to teach Draco how to make it (so far he'd failed miserably, as Draco was skeptical about fiddling with the electronic muggle contraptions) then Harry would take his shower and they'd both go to bed.  
  
It was here that the trouble always started. As he had for many years now, Draco suffered from chronic nightmares and had one every night. Not only did it put considerable stress on Draco, but Harry was beginning to show signs of fatigue as well. It was clear to Draco that Harry wanted to help him, but he hated to be such a burden. After several nights of waking up screaming in the other man's arms, Draco had learned to keep himself quiet. At the manor one couldn't hear him through all the stone walls and corridors, not that they would care mind you, so there was no real need to be silent. But here, with someone else sleeping no more than thirty feet away, it was impossible to make any loud noise without disturbing him. Last night he'd woken in much the same manner as he had tonight. But rather than wake the other man again, he'd turned on the light and sat outside Harry's door for a while, just until he felt safe enough to sleep, and gone back to bed. Harry had been so happy that Draco had apparently improved that he hadn't had the heart to tell him he'd had the dream still. But last night's memory hadn't been nearly so vivid.  
  
Draco shuddered, biting his lip to keep from sobbing aloud. He really hated to do it, but he was in desperate need of solace… and Harry was sure to understand. Trembling as if cold, Draco slipped out of bed and made his way to Harry's door as quietly as possible. Once there he hesitated with his hand on the knob, the fear that Harry might be angry with him for waking him knowing at his insides. He knew it was stupid to think like that, but he couldn't help it. After a couple of deep breaths, Draco turned the knob and slowly pushed the door open just enough for him to step inside. Draco debated with himself whether or not to shut the door behind him, then decided against it as he needed the light to see Harry.  
  
Draco felt himself begin to panic as he approached the bed, knowing he had to wake the other man yet terrified to do it at the same time. Harry shifted in his sleep and Draco groaned inwardly.  
  
_Just DO it!  
_  
Draco held his breath and reached out his hand, letting it hover over Harry's arm for a moment before laying it down gently. The reaction was instantaneous.  
  
HARRY'S POV  
  
Harry jerked upright and looked toward Draco's room, wondering what had woken him. A gasp from the other side of the bed answered the question for him. He turned to find Draco kneeling next to the bed, eyes wide and grasping his right hand to his body as if he'd been stung. Harry winced, knowing he'd startled him.  
  
"Draco? Are you alright?" No answer. Draco looked at his knees and shook slightly, refusing to meet Harry's eyes. "Did you have another nightmare? Draco, answer me." The nod was almost imperceptible, but Harry saw it. He sighed, glad that Draco hadn't woken up screaming, but considerably miffed that he was being so uncommunicative. By Merlin, he was going to KILL that Death Eater Trash… Harry tilted Draco's chin so he'd look at him, smiled and moved over, pushing the blanket down. "It's alright. Come here."  
  
DRACO'S POV  
  
Draco bit his lip, images of molestations and violations flashing through his head just like the 'movie' Harry had taken him to see three days ago. He didn't want to get in, but he reminded himself that this was Harry, and Harry wouldn't hurt him. Almost reluctantly Draco slipped in beside the other man and lay down, allowing him to tuck him in. He began to relax as Harry ran his hand over his shoulder and through his hair, petting him almost like a pet. Just as he was about to go to sleep Harry whispered something and Draco started, backing away slightly.  
  
"W-What?" he stammered.  
  
Harry smiled at him gently. "Let me hold you."  
  
Draco couldn't speak. His mental processor had completely shut down. It was different than the other times Harry had held him. Then he'd been in a panic and might have hurt himself if he hadn't been restrained… but this? There was only one explanation for this, and Draco wasn't entirely sure he was ready for it. Harry waited patiently for his answer, but when none was provided, he apparently decided that more coaxing was needed.  
  
"Come here, Draco, or tell me no." His tone was soft, reassuring. But the words scared Draco. They scared him a lot. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just think you wouldn't have so many nightmares if you had some company. It makes sense, doesn't it? And if you do have them I'll be right here when you wake up."  
  
Draco thought this through. It DID make sense, and it wasn't the reason he'd been fearing. He nodded slowly, courteously trying to ignore the overly bright grin. Harry pulled him close and tucked the blanket around them both, trying to ward off the chill of the night air. Draco tensed as an arm went around the small of his back and he pressed his face into Harry's chest, trying not to shake too hard.  
  
HARRY'S POV  
  
Draco was nervous. Harry could tell by the erratic breaths and the slight trembling in his slender frame. He Put one arm around the Draco's back and stroked his hair with the other.  
  
"Shhh.. Relax. It's just Harry. No one else."  
  
It took a good while for Draco to fall asleep, but when he did he felt safe. The nightmares did not return that night.  
  
How ya' like it? I apologize for the delay once again. PLEASE send me a quote!!??  
  
I was wondering if there were any more Mozenrath fans out there that would be interested in a story? I've been a Mozie fan since I saw the Aladdin series when it first came out, and I have so many mini scenes written that I could easily piece it together into a multi-chaptered story. Please tell me if you're interested, because I don't want to put it up if nobody's going to read it.  
  
BYE! Moving tomorrow. 


	6. Confusing Curses

I can't believe I did this without noticing, but I was going over the notes I wrote for the rest of the story yesterday and found something funny. The room that Draco is staying in is decorated in Gryffindor colors. I knew that, of course, but the room Harry stays in is decorated in green! I wrote it down on paper and didn't even notice! Can you believe it? I can see the mental image of thousands of Draco fans shivering in horror at this very moment…  
  
I got a quote from somebody! (dances) From Faite  
  
"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive. Who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?" (Draco Malfoy)  
  
You should all go read her story 'Hope in the Dark'. It's excellent.  
  
I think this is my longest break in updates yet. I'm sorry if this was aggravating, lord knows I would have updated sooner if I had the time. But, because of recent raise in rent I'm being forced at gunpoint to work overtime to save up for Sugoicon! Anime Geeks of the world unite!! (Cheesy Sailor Moon Pose)  
  
Thank you Faite, for saying you'll read my Mozenrath fic even if you're not a big fan. I really do appreciate it. I have written many a story short thingy (Individual scenes to stories I'm too uninspired to actually finish) about Mozenrath, yet have never really written a full story. I figured out how to fit all of them together into one huge story and plan on posting it on later in November. However, when I went and actually LOOKED for all the story mini's I found out that I was missing one! Can you believe that? I've NEVER LOST a story before in my life, not even when my computer got fried (smart girls have backup disks). I have traumatized myself with the knowledge that I've neglected a story about my favorite character in the world so much that I actually lost it. Done ranting now  
  
On with the story.  
  
Lucius Malfoy was never one to mope. He would most likely refer to it as 'reflecting on the erroneous circumstances of life', but to be honest… moping was a much better word for it. Currently he was sitting in his famous Dark Arts library, too preoccupied with his thoughts to actually read any of his rare books. On the outside he appeared as cool and collected as ever, nothing belying the furiousness of the ranting inside his head. Yes, believe it or not, Lucius Malfoy was moping.  
  
There had been a rather nasty raid today. A pureblood family that had been very close to the Malfoys in the Death Eater ranks was now securely locked up in Azkaban… life sentences all around. They weren't quite as influential in the wizarding world as the he had once been, but they were right in the neighborhood. He himself hadn't been particularly attached to any of them, and it wasn't for their sad (though justly deserved) fate he was sulking for. It was just how close they had been to him. One of them had likely given his name by now, whether voluntarily or under a potion of some kind, and he was quite sure it wouldn't be too long before the Ministry officials came knocking at his door.  
  
What had started as a slow but steady ascend into the Death Eater ranks had quickly accelerated into an all-out war against the followers of the late Dark Lord. Lucius normally wouldn't have minded at all, he had friends in high places. But he was positive that, given the slightest chance, they would waste no time in throwing his Slytherin ass in Azkaban and throwing away the portkey. This would require a credible eyewitness, one high in stature and close enough to the family to be believable. A witness of such high caliber would normally be difficult to find. So many had mysteriously disappeared since the war, and those that hadn't were in no state of mind to be a credible anything. And if it weren't for a moment of weakness on his part, the Malfoy line would be perfectly safe.  
  
But it wasn't. Lucius Malfoy had quite literally dropped such a witness into his enemy's lap… Or had he? It was here that he reached a frustrating conundrum. After using every scrying, locating, and life force identification spell he knew of, he had failed in verifying Draco's whereabouts. Locating and life force identification spells tracked down the living, but even the scrying spell had failed… and that would have responded to a body with or without a soul. But, even though Lucius had failed to locate Draco himself, he HAD managed to detect a very faint shield. A shield with the magical signature of a small body of water. It seemed extremely unlikely to Lucius that a small body of water was somehow walking through the streets of London. So the only other explanation was that his son, or some other wizard in hiding, was inside the shield. But, yet again, there was a problem. Normally with any shield or ward you could see that SOMETHING was inside, even though you couldn't tell exactly what it was. And even aided by the strongest dark magics in existence the results were always inconclusive. NOTHING was inside the shield as far as anything in the wizarding world could tell. According to every spell, hex, curse, charm and enchantment at his disposal, Draco Malfoy simply did not exist.  
  
He was positive that his little package had reached it's destination, he had Harry Potter's signature to verify that after all. Not to mention the two men that swore under a truth potion that he had been received as far as they knew. The thought that he may have been so completely destroyed that even a srying spell was unable to identify his remains was mildly entertaining for a little while, but hardly likely considering the source of such an act was Harry Potter and not Lucius himself. He doubted the Potter boy even knew HOW to perform such an act, and even if he did he would have saved it for his arch nemesis and not his petty school rivalry.  
  
Lucius shuddered inwardly. He had been present during the final showdown with Potter and his Army. He remembered what he saw when the Dark Lord was destroyed. Not by Potter's hand, but by his own. Potter never was one to stain his own hands with blood… in fact he hadn't used any magic at all. He had dodged the Dark Lord's blasts and hexes with the ease of a monkey until he had been forced to risk all his remaining power on one last curse. It was then that Potter's true talent shone through. Known only to those who had witnessed it was Potter's ability to manipulate portals at will. When the Dark Lord had fired, Potter took that fraction of a second to transport the both of them… switching their positions and watching as the Dark Lord was felled by his own magic. Not only did this keep Potter's hands clean, but it guaranteed that the Dark Lord would be unable to return to this plane of existence. A wizard killed by his own power is nullified. Trapped between worlds.  
  
Lucius sighed, leaning his chin in his fists. Regardless of Draco's fate, he was positive he'd be getting a call from Potter very soon.  
  
It was NOT a day he was looking forward to.  
  
Sorry this is so short, but I hate Lucius. I hate looking at him, I hate reading about him, and I hate writing about him… unless it's a really gruesome death scene. Then I like to read about him!  
  
I've got to go to sleep now. School AND work tomorrow. blows kisses Please review? 


	7. A Visitor

I just found out a while ago that my sister's going to make me an aunt. YAY! A little niece or nephew to help me terrorize the populous of my neighborhood! She's due in late June or early July. Right now she's laying in Mom's bed being all emotional because her Fiance went out with one of his friends and she doesn't want to go home alone. She's so cute like this. I'll have to get a camera. 

I just barely made the two week deadline didn't I? Gomen nasai! Making costumes for Sugoicon next weekend. My poor little sewing fingers are sore. I found an old story too. I didn't finish it because it was literally going nowhere, which was kind of the point, but it was annoying me and I stopped for some reason I can't remember. I'll put it up right now so you can al see how neurotic I am.

DRACO AND HARRY'S POV

"Stop it, Harry!" Draco huffed in exasperation. Ducking nimbly, he avoided the hands that simply refused to leave him alone. He wasn't quite quick enough, and the hands latched onto his ponytail and pulled it gently, yet forcefully backward, consequently bringing the rest of Draco within reaching distance. Harry held the shoulders tight.

"Please?" Harry whined.

Draco huffed once more, then settled down on the couch and let Harry do as he wished. As silly as it might sound, Harry Potter had fallen in love with Draco Malfoy's hair. That's right… every chance he got he played with it. Draco wasn't too objecting, but he was a bit embarrassed, so it was difficult to get him to sit still long enough for Harry to do any serious preening. He loved the attention, though. That much was perfectly clear.

Harry smiled as Draco leaned back into the brush, and if he didn't know any better he could have sworn the blonde was purring. This had quickly become one of their daily rituals. Harry would chase Draco around the house until he managed to catch him, and Draco would consent to the pampering until he got antsy and sprung out of the other man's grasp. It wasn't terribly difficult to catch Draco… as long as he wanted to be caught. There had been days when Draco simply did not want to be touched, and Harry had left him alone. They had been living together for two months now, and Harry was beginning to get to know Draco's habits. When he wanted to be alone he always went to Harry's room, not his room. Harry suspected that among the reasons for this one was that his room was decorated in green and silver, and the familiar colors made him feel more at home. Another was that Draco hadn't slept in his own room for five weeks now, and Harry was beginning to suspect Draco liked sleeping with him… for the company if nothing else. Harry Had quickly discovered that once Draco got used to sleeping with him, he couldn't keep the blonde off him. Draco clung to Harry in his sleep, curling up against his chest and arms around his neck or waist, and nothing Harry could do would prevent it. Not that he would WANT to prevent it mind you, it had just been a bit uncomfortable for Draco the first few mornings he had woken up like that.

Harry paused in his work, concerned at the other man's silence. Usually Draco chatted his head off while Harry was playing with his hair. Draco turned and looked at him, wondering why he stopped.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"Yes. I just wish I knew what it was." Harry answered meaningfully. Draco blushed a bit and turned back around. He seemed to think for a moment, then leaned back and lay against Harry's chest staring up at him with the look that usually got him whatever he wanted. Harry sighed. "What is it?"

"I want to see my Godfather." he stated bluntly.

Harry jumped up, nearly knocking Draco onto the floor. Draco mentally sighed and braced himself for a long and drawn-out rant about the 'slimy git', but was unprepared for what happened next. Harry stood there looking for all the world like he wanted to use a lot of choice adjectives in his next sentence, but took a deep breath instead. He knew that Draco had every right to want to see the man and also knew the connection of a Godfather himself. He had no right to say no. But he would have his own terms.

"Alright." he started, almost grinning at the surprised expression on the other man's face, "But he is to come here and you will not be alone with him at ANY time." Draco nodded.

SNAPE'S POV

Severus had been surprised when he'd received an owl from Harry Potter. He'd been close to a state of shock when the contents of the letter informed him of his godson's whereabouts. Though he'd been immensely pleased that Draco was still alive and not in his father's house, he was very upset indeed that he was staying in the same house with one Harry Potter. For a moment he had entertained the notion of convincing Draco to leave with him, until he had FINISHED reading the letter.

_"Snape,_

_Against my better judgment I have decided to invite you to my home. I'm sure you are aware of the fact that Draco Malfoy has recently disappeared from his home and has not been seen for two months in any wizarding areas. I am writing this to inform you that he has taken up residence in the Black house with me, and has requested an audience with you. Though I've no right to deny him seeing you I do have some leeway on the terms._

_I want it to be perfectly clear to you that you would not be allowed anywhere NEAR my home under any other circumstances. You may stay only as long as Draco wishes it, and not after nightfall. You will not be left alone with him, no matter how much the both of you argue. Draco is under my protection and I WILL keep him safe, even from his own Godfather. If at any moment I feel you are being overly harsh with him, or upsetting him in any way you will be out the door faster than you can say 'quidditch'._

_Be here at 3:00.   
H. J. Potter"_

Snape had been furious. It was late fall and the sun was setting around 5:00. Two hours just wasn't long enough to say all the things he'd been thinking since Draco had disappeared… it was insulting and unnecessarily cruel. He glared up at the house he hadn't visited since the Order had dispersed and thought fleetingly that it was much more cheerful now that it had received a few years proper maintenance. Then he got angry with himself for letting a word such as 'cheerful' sneak it's way into his thoughts. Striding up to the door in as menacing a stride he could manage (which is the same stride he uses to intimidate first years) he lifted his hand to the door and knocked three times.

He heard a very excited voice in the house say something too quickly to interpret, then the door opened and Severus found himself face-to-face with a rather stern looking Harry Potter. The boy had grown since they last met. He was larger now, probably because of better nutrition since he'd gotten the impression from Dumbledore that the Dursley's weren't feeding him too well. He was taller and more sculpted with dark tanned skin showing old battle scars on his cheek, neck, and of coarse, his forehead. His hair was a bit longer yet somehow more controlled than the messy boyish cut of his adolescence. His eyes had changed as well. Instead of the lighter green they had developed into an intense deep jade that looked as if it was glowing, almost pulsing with the magic power contained within his body. They locked glares for a long moment, then Harry's head stiffly nodded him inside. Draco was nowhere to be seen.

"Where-?" he began, only to be interrupted. Potter didn't want to talk apparently.

"Draco is in the library waiting for you. Before you see him I want your word you will not raise you voice or get to close to him." Harry ordered. Severus opened his mouth to protest this, but was silenced by Harry's hand going up to silence him. "I know he's your godson, but it would likely scare him after all he's been through. He's jumpy and withdrawn, and might panic. If you don't agree you might as well leave, since you won't be seeing him otherwise."

Severus kept his mouth shut. This wasn't his house, and he wanted sorely to make sure Draco was alright. He nodded curtly. Harry nodded back and motioned for him to follow. The moment he entered the Library he spotted Draco lounging in a rather undignified position in an armchair that was way too large for him. Severus immediately took note of the muggle attire that, he had to admit, suited Draco's slender form in ways a wizard's robes simply couldn't. The blonde glanced up and met Severus' eyes for an instant, then looked at his knees and sat up straight.

"It's been a while." Draco started. Snape nodded, momentarily forgetting Draco couldn't see the gesture.

"It has. Are you well?" Severus asked.

"I've never been so well. Harry is very… accommodating." Draco said carefully, trying not to stammer. Why had he wanted to do this again? Harry was standing right there, but he felt a little awkward talking to a man he hadn't seen in over a year. Severus walked over and settled on the couch across from Draco's chair. He exhaled deeply and stared at the petite figure that very much resembled a child in that enormous chair… he almost snickered at how ridiculous he looked. Almost.

"Draco, how did this happen?" Severus blurted. Draco gave him a confused look and he elaborated. "How did you end up here of all places? Why Potter?" Draco experienced an involuntary sharp intake of breath. Harry immediately told him he didn't have to answer that, but he shook his head. He thought he should tell his Godfather.

"Fath- Lucius… gave me to Harry." he stated flatly.

"Gave you? What does that mean?" Severus inquired too loudly for Harry's liking. The sharp stare reminded him to keep his voice down, lest he find himself outside.

"It means my Father cursed me, locked me in a box, put me in gift wrap and sent me to be slaughtered in return for his freedom from Azkaban. Instead of doing what he had every right to do and kill me on the spot, Harry broke the curse and brought me to his home, gave my life back to me and treated me like a king… all after I tortured him in school and generally made HIS life a living hell. It means the one person I never thought would care if I died is in fact the only reason I'm still alive now. It means that I am now the legal property of Harry Potter and I've never been so grateful to be an object in my entire life! THAT'S what it means!" Draco panted from his rant, amazed at himself for yelling at his Godfather, yet oddly reassured by the fact that he did.

"You are NOT an object." Harry's voice broke the stunned silence sharply. "And you are not my property either. It says so in the claim only to keep you away from that Death Eater trash of a man."

Draco smiled slightly. It was about time Harry added his opinionated lines into the conversation. Severus stared in shock. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. Draco couldn't have fallen victim to the controlling curse! He had been trained to resist that… hadn't he?

"You should have fought it! Weren't you trained to fight that curse? Why didn't you resist?!" Snape bellowed. Draco's eyes widened and he backed into the chair, stammering helplessly. Harry had had enough already. A sharp word in Parsletongue reverberated through the room before Snape found himself lying on his back six feet from his original position. He didn't know how it was possible, but Harry's magic had literally knocked him halfway across the room without the use of a wand, or even hand gestures. Suddenly Severus felt a burst of cold air… they were on the street outside, and Harry was closing in on him.

Harry latched onto Snape's collar and hauled him up, dangling him a full six inches over the pavement. He pulled the man so close that their noses almost touched and seethed at him through clenched teeth. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to make him feel even remotely secure? Do you know how hard it was to convince him that he couldn't have done anything to stop what happened to him? Yes, he had been trained to fight the curse, but you try fighting it when your own father is the one inside your head! Lucius knows everything about Draco… his thoughts, his dreams and his fears! Anyone with that kind of knowledge could keep the curse up, even if you had trained your entire life to block it! And you try fighting mind control when your body is too weak to resist a stiff wind! Breaking that curse had me drained for days… I barel;y had enough energy to put up that shield, which by the way, will only remain as long as he stays in this house with me!"

"He has no ties to this pathetic excuse for a Pureblood house!" Snape retaliated, choking on his words as Harry's grip tightened around his neck.

"Oh yes he does! My Godfather Sirius Black was a distant cousin of Narcissa Malfoy! It's right there on the family tree! Most pureblood families are related anyway, since they're so damned prejudiced. Draco Malfoy is related to Sirius Black, and so to me! This house owes him the same protection that the Dursley's house owed me! And now that you've throughway ruined all my hard work and generosity, I think it's time for you to leave!"

And just like that, Severus found himself gasping for air on the floor of his living quarters in the Slytherin dungeons, wondering why he had never known Potter was able to teleport things so easily. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could have sworn he heard Draco crying.

Bows again for being late. Don't shoot me!


	8. Justice or Revenge?

Kami-sama almighty the anime con was the most fun I've had in exactly… two years! Since the last Sugoicon. I made my Fiancé a Miroku costume… un/fortunately(?) for me he decided to play the part and wouldn't stop groping me. He also asked me to have his children at least… Oh, I lost count. We didn't win anything in the cosplay contest, but he said he loved it and that makes me happy. His friend (and now newest member of my 'I Love You 'Cuz You're Like Me!' best friends list) Erica, dressed up as Inu Yasha. Her costume was fantastic and she played Demon Inu Yasha on the second night of the con, and actually acted the part! She had a little metal ball we were pretending was the Shikon no Tama, and after she stole it from Miroku, a random Kikyo slapped an ofuda on her forehead and got it back for us. Isn't that hilarious!?

Anyway… There is something relevant to this story that happened at the con. I commissioned a wonderful artist to draw the scene where Draco is at the top of the staircase and Harry holds his hand out to him, welcoming him to come down. I saw the sketch and it was so gorgeous I suffered from Yaoi Fangirl Overload ™ for over six hours. For those of you that haven't experienced this… you shouldn't be reading my stories. Not only that, but I decided to splurge on the picture and have her color it, so I can put it up for all you nice people that read my story!! My Christmas gift to all of you!! She'll mail it to me as soon as it's finished.

For those of you who DEMANDED I kill Lucius PAINFULLY… here you go.

On with the story.

HARRY'S POV

As I had done so many nights since Draco had been given to me, I watched the blonde sleep. I had cast the dreamless sleep charm the moment Draco had closed his eyes, knowing that he would have had an awful time with nightmares without it after the episode with Snape. I balled my fists, furious at the man for ruining Draco's day. He'd been so excited about seeing his Godfather that I had found myself anticipating the event as well, if only for Draco's happiness. And the moment I thought it might have been a good thing for Draco to see the man, he had to accuse him of being weak… practically scolding him for everything as if it were somehow all his own doing. He'd been through so much… he deserved to be happy. It wasn't fair that everything kept falling apart the moment things started going his way. 

More than anyone I understood the pain Draco must be feeling at being so degraded by his own family… treated like an uncouth, wicked, unwanted thing that should have been drowned the moment he was born. And like me he knew what it was like to pray he would be left alone so he wouldn't have to suffer the humiliation of being forcibly subjugated for the amusement of those around him. I closed my eyes, pushing down the images that flashed in my head. Vernon had been just as merciful with me as Draco's father had been with him. He'd never raped me, it was plain to me that he thought it was disgusting to touch me even to beat me. But beat me he did, nearly killing me on more than one occasion. But rather than lay back and accept it, I fought him with every weapon I was allowed.

I fought to live. I had the ability to because I knew I had friends. Real friends. Friends that depended upon me and would likely suffer a horrible fate if I had gone. I didn't want to live for myself. I never did. My only purpose was to protect those who were so willing to protect me, with their lives if necessary. And when that motive failed me it had simply been a matter of principle to survive.

Why?

Fuck him, that's why.

Draco on the other hand, had no reason in his mind to keep on living. He hated himself and truly had believed for the longest time that it was his fate to be a plaything for the dark forces, and maybe he truly did deserve it. He never fought back. There simply wasn't any reason to. And yet he always survived.

I gazed at Draco, envious of the strength that lay within him buried so deep he didn't even know it was there. Rage had kept me alive. Rage at Vernon for treating me so horribly, rage at Voldemort for killing my parents. And a lust for revenge. A yearning to free the souls of my parents and all others who had fallen under the Tyrant and let them rest in peace. Two very dangerous and dark feelings had buried themselves within me, and helped me make the move that ultimately led to Voldemort's defeat. I smiled in spite of myself. The only thing that had kept me from delivering the killing blow myself was the possibility of Voldemort's returning with more tricks up his slimy sleeves in store for me.. And Ron, and Hermione. I had no other choice but to have him kill himself. It made it impossible for him to come back. No matter how many times I replayed it in my mind, the sight of Voldemort's death sweetened my senses like strong liquor candy. But God forbid I ever say it aloud.

That would shoot my 'HERO' persona to hell, now wouldn't it?

Draco survived on strength alone. He had no will to live, no thoughts of escape, and above all no one that had loved him enough to notice what was happening to him. Even his own desire for death had not felled his tenacity. It was this that impressed me so. Draco was literally so strong that the thought of ending his own life had never even occurred to him, while I myself had considered it many, many times. It was always during those spells when I just didn't care anymore, and the thought of death actually sounded nice. 

That's it! Suicide. Surely it wasn't unknown to the rest of the world what had been going on in the Malfoy household? And if all else failed, Severus would vouch for it. Quick-tempered as he was, he loved Draco. There was a raid planned for the Malfoy estate in less than a week. Lucius probably knew about it by now. That would be considered just cause in my book. 

"Forgive me, Draco." I whispered, leaning down to place a kiss on his forehead. After months of indecision regarding one of my less admirable aspirations I had finally made up my mind.

Lucius Malfoy was a dead man.

LUCIUS' POV

I find myself sitting up in bed, straining to hear something with no idea what I was listening for. I don't remember what had woken me, but I knew that something had. And I knew that something was very, very wrong. Sliding out from under the blankets I reached over to my nightstand to retrieve my wand… and found it missing. Hm… An intruder in MY Manor? However did they get past the portraits? No matter. I knelt on the floor to retrieve the hidden wand under my headboard. 

"Shit."

I immediately regretted that slip. That's right, Lucius… just broadcast where you are to make yourself an easier target. Whoever had broken into my room knew exactly where my weapons were located. There was really no sense in looking for the rest of them. I scowled. How DARE they? Temper flaring, I stood and walked purposefully toward the door.

"Tell me something, Malfoy." came a familiar voice from behind my curtains. Unable to place the voice to a name, I decided to answer.

"And what might that be?" I drawled.

"Who is the beneficiary on your will?" I swore inwardly as the intruder stepped out from behind the black fabric. 

"Potter."

"Malfoy."

"You know this wasn't very smart, Potter. Even if you manage to kill me the portraits will recognize you. They ARE accepted as witnesses you know." I smirked, pleased as he seemed to frown slightly.

"What portraits?" he asked meaningfully.

I opened my mouth to answer, but found myself unable to remember what I had been about to say as my sleep-fogged eyes had cleared enough to register the glowing outside my window was not moonlight. I rushed to the curtains and threw them aside, yelling in rage as I saw my entire courtyard ablaze, portrait frames charred and strewn all over in smoldering piles. I turned at a chuckle so cruel it would have made the Dark Lord stand up and applaud.  
Potter strode toward me slowly, like a cat stalking it's prey. With no wand in sight I wondered how he expected to get the better of me in my own home, then I had a flashback from the last days of the war and remembered he didn't exactly need a wand to kill somebody. 

"You didn't answer my question, Lucius. Who is the beneficiary on your will?" Potter spat my name like a profanity. I winced. He was obviously out for blood… my life may depend on my answer.

"Seeing as how I have no other heir, Draco, of coarse." He stopped in his approach, a surprisingly evil smirk on his face. He raised his right hand and held it before him in a mock dueling gesture.

"Ah. Good. You know I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but a rather nasty raid is planned for this Manor in less than a week's time. Doesn't that make you upset?" My eyes widened of their own accord, and he laughed. "What? Didn't you know? I guess your contacts in the ministry are getting fed up with you at last. Can't blame them really, you are a bit difficult to please after all."

"Fuck you, Potter!"

Then he scowled at me and light left his fingers and went right into my chest. I screamed, dropping to the floor. After so many years of serving the Dark lord I knew quite well the unique sense of absolute agony the crucius curse inflicts on a man. What I didn't understand is how Potter had cast the curse without a wand, word, or gesture. It stopped very soon, astonishing considering seconds felt like hours in that state, and Potter allowed me enough recovery time to regain my footing to stand. I glared at him through my hair, which had fallen in my face during my lapse in composure. He smiled.

"I was hoping you hadn't changed your will yet. Draco probably wouldn't want this filthy old place anyway, but far be it for me to deny him what's rightfully his. Merlin knows he earned it living with a pedophilic sadist like you all these years." I resisted the urge to sneer at him, seeing as how his hand was still raised. At least I knew Draco was still in Potter's possession, and that might give me an edge on the situation. 

"So you're doing this for Draco? I admit I underestimated you, Potter. It never crossed my mind that you would actually KEEP the brat. Has he been attentive to you, Potter? Or do you simply have him chained to your bed?" The reaction was immediate. The very next instant Potter had me by the neck, lifting me off the ground so that my toes were just brushing the carpet. He hadn't moved at all. He was seven feet away from me, then he was right in front of me, there was no in-between. Gasping, I continued my invective. "What are you doing, P-Potter? What will Draco think of you a-after you kill his f-father?"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, Lucius. Who do you think told me where to find all your little toys? It was easy to get the information from him, all I had to do was treat him like a human being. Funny, how something like that can alter a person's opinion of you. Besides, did you think he wouldn't want revenge after all the shit you put him through?"

Draco order a hit on me? Never. And yet, here Potter was, wringing my neck. How could he not have? The realization struck me with the force of another crucius. Draco had ordered me destroyed. Perhaps he was a better heir than I thought. Potter walked with deceptive calm toward my balcony doors. He said something in parse tongue and the doors were blasted from their hinges into the inferno below, the crash accompanied by the screams of portraits. Potter took me to the edge and dangled me over the side, loosening his grip on me just enough to make me grab onto his arms. I can't tell you how frustrating it is to know exactly where, when, and how your going to die yet not be able to stop it. That does it.

I am now officially prepared to beg for my life.

"P-potter… don't.." I manage to stammer through the ache in my throat. It's getting harder to breathe. He smirks at me devilishly.

"What makes you think I'd give you any mercy, Malfoy? I hope you burn forever for what you did to your son. Now he'll never have to be afraid of you again." I grasp his arms as tightly as I can, but the smoke is making me feel faint, and the smoke hurts my lungs… "Give my regards to Voldemort."

And with that… he lets go.

All Hail the evilness of Harry on a warpath. Wow it's… 2:13a.m. I'm going to bed.  
Send reviews, Please! 


	9. Vengeance

(Maybe I should have been more descriptive in my last chapter, but I wrote it at like 4 in the morning and was not at peak performance levels, so sorry about that. For those who said Lucius's death wasn't quite painful enough… I envisioned the balcony being no more than three stories high, so Lucius wouldn't have died unless he landed just right. However… Our vengeful Harry DID manage to drop him right on top of all the smoldering portraits… It must've been painful to fall three stories and break most every bone in your body, then burn alive while bleeding to death in your own portraits. 

Yes, my world did totally fall apart for an entire week, and that's why I'm so bloody late with this update. I won't bore you with the gruesome details, but I assure you the next chapter will be up at the end of next week like it should be.)

(T.T Thanks to Ura for alerting me of my mistake. I had put 'teleport' instead of 'apparate' and had to replace this chapter because of it. Take pity on the overworked authoress please…)

**DRACO'S POV**

I sat up in bed, my head pounding as if it would burst. I didn't know how long I had been asleep, truthfully I didn't even remember falling asleep. To me, one moment I was laying on Harry's chest crying, and the next I was here. I put a hand over my heart, trying to calm it's frantic pace. It took me several minutes to realize that I was alone. This scared me. It scared me a lot. I was used to waking up with Harry next to me, reassuring me that whatever horrors had plagued me in my dreams were not real and could no longer harm me. But he wasn't there.

I quickly went from scared to angry. Where was he? How DARE he leave me alone like this? He knew very well why I didn't like to be alone, and he did it just the same. Just like everyone else…

I mentally slapped myself at that thought. No. Harry is NOT just like everyone else. It figures my natural tendency to convert any emotion whatsoever to anger had reinstated itself shortly after Harry had rescued me. It was simply the way I dealt with my pain. I knew it wasn't right, but it helped ease it a little. I was extremely grateful that my acting skills hadn't diminished either, making it possible to hide this fact from the other man. No matter how angry I was inside, I couldn't show it on my face. I knew it would hurt Harry to see me like that. He picked up on my expressions very easily with so many years of previous experience to back him up. He may not have been good at reading other people's faces, but he could sure as hell read MINE. It was frustrating, and almost flattering at the same time to know that he had been paying so much attention to me at school.

I sighed, still aggravated, but lonely as well. Looking down at myself I snicker on impulse. I'm wearing Harry's blue pajamas again. He bought me seven pair, why does he keep dressing me in his? They're too big for me. Probably because all but one of mine are black and green… I climb out of bed and wipe my eyes on my sleeves, shuffling over to the wall to turn on the light. I wince when the room is brightened by it, and groan loudly. Why do I have such an awful headache? I feel like I've been drinking all night.

I go out into the hallway and call out as well as I can after just waking up. "Harry?" He doesn't answer, and I find myself getting aggravated again. He wouldn't have left me alone in the house, would he? Muttering about Harry needing a house elf, I reach the top of the stairs and call out again. The sound echoes off the walls. Still, no answer.

"Shit…" I whisper. I AM alone!

I find myself shaking, wringing my suddenly chilled hands together. I don't like this at all. I take several deep breaths to calm myself, and resolve to go back to bed until he returns and I can chew him out. Maybe he just went back to work? He didn't seem to mind the calling system he had with the Ministry. Since he barely had to do a thing anyway, Harry had given Weasley a thing called a 'pager' to let him know if he was needed. He'd only been called away twice since then, and never for more than an hour or two… and he'd always left me with plenty of assurances that he would be back as soon as he could. This time, he hadn't even told me he was leaving. That was not like him at all.

Still standing at the head of the staircase, I bent over slightly to get a look at the clock downstairs. Now I'm worried. It's four in the morning. No wonder I'm so groggy. I rush down the stairs, resisting the urge to call out to Harry again, and assess the situation as best I can.

Item 1: Harry is not here.

Item 2: He bloody well SHOULD be since it's so late… or early.

Item 3: He didn't tell me where he went, or even let me know he was leaving.

Item 4: I am on the edge of a panic attack, and there isn't anyone here to help me if I need it.

I distantly hear someone whimpering, and refuse to acknowledge the fact that it's me. I need to THINK, and giving in to another episode is not going to help me. I sink to the floor, hugging myself in an attempt to calm down. I grasp the material of Harry's pajamas in my fists and am oddly comforted knowing that they're his.

"I can do this… I can do this…" I repeat, a mantra I haven't had to utter for over half a year now. It helps, just like it always did at the Manor, and I find the strength to stand. I am still breathing heavily, But I can now think clearly enough to get my mind off the situation. I need to do something distracting until Harry gets home. Then, I'll kill him.

That thought set firmly in place, I shakily make my way to the sitting room and wrap myself in the blanket on my chair, (Yes, it is now MY chair) and pull a Potion's manuscript off the shelf. It looks interesting enough, and I curl up in my chair to read it. My last though before delving into the book with every ounce of my attention is;

_"Harry's going to be so proud of me…"_

**HARRY'S POV**

I watch as he falls, screaming the whole way. I know very well that I could've cast a levitating charm to save him, but I wouldn't do that now. I've come too far. He hit's the pile with a sickening crunch, and I find myself wondering how many of his bones broke upon impact. He shrieks with the pain, and I listen with something akin to morbid fascination. It's just too interesting to look away. He writhes in the smoldering ashes and bits of frame, and I make out the sight of a frame corner protruding from his leg. How lovely.

He stops moving all too soon for me, and I feel a smile I didn't know I wore fade as I turned to walk away. I mutter something best not repeated lest the world think their hero would even know such language, and stalk through the Manor, gathering the Marauder's Map in my hands. I point my wand at it lovingly.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." I say, voice soft as velvet.

A complete map of the manor appears at my fingertips, and I note with bemusement that there are more rooms UNDER the Manor than in it. Draco wasn't kidding when he told me about the dungeons in this place. It was disgusting. Each room was labeled for a specific kind of torture. I shuddered at the names of all the house elves down there, no doubt cleaning up a never-ending mess of Merlin-knows-what down there. I scan the map thoroughly, finding the room I've been looking for easily. Draco's room is in the east tower.

I apparate there instantly, and look around sadly. Draco had told me he lived in a cell after the end of the term first year, but I never quite believed him. It was all here, right in front of me. It is a circular room of stone walls with shackles hanging from many places at several different heights. The manacles look like they've been reduced in size to fit Draco's slender wrists perfectly. There are also shackles on the floor, and one set in the middle of the ceiling and floor. Over to one side is a bed, if you could call it that, that resembled a very old and beat-up plank of wood with a few thin blankets spread over it. Other than the bars on the window, and enormous lock on the door, there was nothing else.

I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. I would have loved to burn the entire Manor to the ground, but it belonged to Draco now, and I had no right. A skittering behind me made me turn abruptly, and I grasped the wrist of a house elf wearing a tattered tablecloth. He looked just as horrid as Dobby had when I'd first seen him, and I loosed my grip so as not to upset the bandages around the bleeding fingers. He cringed when I knelt down, and I smiled at him. "What is your name?"

Eyes wide, he answered in a quaking voice, "Nott, sir. P-please don't be angry, sir. Nott just wants to thank you, sir."

"Thank me?" I ask, pleased. Nott nods.

"Yes, sir. Nott would also like to ask if we will be yours now, or is Master Draco well?"

I let him go gently and lean down to get better eye contact. "You mean, all of the other house elves? Do they know what I've done?" I ask sweetly. I don't intend to hurt them if they do, just make sure they all get a good memory charm for being nosy. Nott grins wickedly at me, nodding vigorously.

"Oh, yes, sir! We are all very pleased, sir! Master Lucius was very cruel to us poor house elves, but now we will have a new master. Nott is sorry for asking again, but is it you, or is Master Draco well? We miss him so."

I laugh. I can't help it. Dobby never told me anything about Draco, but I never heard him say anything bad about him either. I had assumed he didn't associate with them. "Yes, Nott. Master Draco is very well indeed." I continued, watching as the diminutive thing bounced up and down clapping his hands. "But I'm afraid I'll have to erase your memory of what you've just seen. Can't take any risks, you know." He looked at me with an odd expression, and grinned once again.

"Seen, sir? Nott has seen nothing. Master Lucius jumped. He burned all the poor portraits too, nasty old man. Give Dobby all our best at Hogwarts, sir. And bring Master Draco home soon." And before I could think to pull my wand, he was gone with a 'pop'.

I shrugged. What was the point? I'd probably be assigned to this case by the Ministry anyway. All it took was one eyewitness to account for a suicide, and I knew that I had my name. I looked with disdain at the horrid room once more before apparating back to Malfoy's room to replace all of his little hidden toys. Dobby was so useful in a pinch… always willing to talk to 'Harry Potter, sir' about anything. Just before I finished a chime in the hall alerted me to the time. Five a.m.? I sorely hoped that Draco had not woken while I was away. I kicked myself mentally for not sending Ron over to watch him for me. Even if he didn't wake up, he was still alone, and that could be a problem. He had an uncanny talent for sensing where people were… or weren't.

I walked to the balcony and looked down at the sizzling and quite obviously dead body of Lucius Malfoy one last time, and closed my eyes to relish the feeling of a successful mission. I saluted the burning pile, and apparated home, not looking forward to telling Draco about this at all.

(Is that better? Poor Draco was left all alone in that big house? T.T Harry, you meanie! Get back there and see how well he took care of himself while you were away.

I'm going to start on the next chapter right now, so I can be sure it'll be on time. Bye!)


	10. Secrets Revealed Confession

( This isn't late, I swear. Counting the days, it's two early. I just got a bit distracted with the Christmas thing. Yes, I did start it after I posted the last one, I just didn't FINISH it until today. O.o; Sorry about that, but Draco has been complaining LOUDLY about his role in the story. He's frequently causing me to lose track of what I'm writing by banging on the inside of my skull to get my attention and make rude comments. I think I'll just have Harry tie him to a pole somewhere in the back of my head and get back to the story later. 

The commission artwork for the staircase scene is still under destruction. The poor artist had finals to study for and Christmas stuff to deal with, so I told her to take a hiatus. I think she appreciated it, because she's one of the few people that actually answer me when I e-mail her. We should have the picture soon, though!

'Drools, remembering the sketch')

**DRACO'S POV**

I don't think I've ever been this comfortable alone before. Not to say that I'm relaxed at all, I'm just comfortable. I'm still worried and upset that Harry's gone missing, but I have this feeling that it'll be alright. I've never had this feeling before. It's a bit unnerving, but comforting at the same time.

I've read three books in a row… wow. Haven't done that since N.E.W.T.'s. Though I'm bored with reading now, I can't think of anything else to do. I'm not tired, so I can't go back to bed. It's too early to go out, not that I would without Harry, so that's out of the question as well. Not to mention it's too bloody cold outside. And I don't fancy wandering the house and reminding myself that I'm the only one here. That might trigger another episode.

I sigh, rolling over in my chair. I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling. The lights are on, and I can see interesting patterns on the textured ceiling if I look hard enough. I blink. Oh yeah, I'm definitely bored. I sigh again, dramatically now, and roll over onto my front.

"You REALLY need some house elves, Harry" I complain to myself loudly.

"I'll keep that in mind."

I jump so forcefully at the sudden intrusion that I have to grasp the arm of the recliner to keep from sprawling on the floor. Harry laughs at me from the doorway and I turn to glare at him menacingly. He smiles, hands raised in surrender.

"Sorry, I thought you were talking to me."

"I'll bet you did." I growl, angry at him for leaving me. I rearrange myself in the chair with my arms crossed expectantly. He sighs.

"You're mad at me."

"Damn right I'm mad. You left me here alone with no warning, no idea where you were or when you were coming back! AND you used the dreamless charm on me after you said you wouldn't!" I accused sternly. My voice wasn't raised too much, though. I couldn't yell at him. He already looked miserable enough, but I was determined to make it perfectly clear that I was upset. He looked at me with something akin to frustration, but it quickly melted into embarrassment.

"I was hoping you'd sleep all night, Draco. I'm sorry I scared you, but I had something important to take care of. I didn't want to wake you after… well, I didn't think it would be fair. Besides, it isn't often you fall asleep on your own." He said softly, sulking. Then he smiles amusedly, "You haven't yelled at me since Hogwarts, though. Feeling better?"

I felt myself blush. "I'm not yelling… I was just scared, that's all. I nearly had a fit on the stairs, too. You could have left a note or something…" I don't get to finish though, because Harry has hold of my shoulders, looking me over.

"You WHAT!?"

**HARRY'S POV**

I rush over to him, holding his shoulders securely. Looking him over to see if he's alright.

"You WHAT!? Did you fall? Are you hurt? Oh Merlin, Draco, I'm sorry! I should have left someone with you… How long have you been up?" I must be embarrassing him now, since he's obviously blushing. Normally I'd stop to appreciate how adorable he is when he's gone all pink, but right now I'm too worried to care. He squirms, mumbling something I can't hear, a slight smile showing through his cascading hair. "Come again?" I ask.

He looks up at me then with a real smile. "I said I NEARLY had a fit on the stairs… but I stopped it. I calmed myself down and tried to concentrate on something else, and it worked. I've been alone here for hours… but I'm alright. I did it, Harry."

I'm speechless. He did that all on his own? I almost can't believe it. He's expecting an answer, I can tell, his smile fades a bit as I stand there trying to form words. But I can't. I'm so happy he's recovering, I'm so proud of him, that I can't say it in words. "Draco…" I pull him into a hug, delighted at his responsiveness. He's hugging me back, laughing happily as he does so. "I'm sorry, Draco. You shouldn't have had to find out like that… but I'm so happy for you." He squeezes me tighter, then pulls away to look at me.

"Thanks." he chirps happily. "I don't think I'd fancy doing that again though." His expression suddenly turns annoyed and he gives me a glare I haven't seen in years. "But, if you ever do that to me again, Harry Potter, I'll curse you into oblivion… and don't think I won't!"

**DRACO'S POV**

He laughs at me and hugs me again, amused by my proclamation. I don't think he believes that I really mean it, but I do. Bastard… I let him hold me, smiling. It's confusing how I feel right now. I saw a comic once of a girl hugging a boy. She was a gothic girl and the boy had ruined her bad mood. Her dialogue box said "I hate you…", but it was surrounded by little hearts. Yeah, I feel kind of like that.

Harry lets me go and I lean back in the chair, back against the armrest. I raise an eyebrow at him and he looks confused, knowing I want something, but not quite remembering what it is. I clarify it for him.

"Explain."

He frowns. "I did. I said I had something important to do, and I meant it."

"What was so important that you forgot to write me a note? You know very well why I don't want to be alone, and you've never forgotten before… now tell me what was so bloody urgent." I demanded.

Harry frowns down at me some more, then sighs. He reaches down and picks me up, ignoring my rather loud protests, and sets me on his lap after taking up residence in my chair. "Draco… I have something to tell you." he says gently. I feel faint. That didn't sound good at all. I suddenly have a mental image of my old room, hoping and praying to any deity that may be listening that my father hasn't found a way to take me back. I realize I'm trembling, and Harry holds me tighter, looking at me squarely.

"W-what?" I stammer, tensing when he breaks eye contact and sighs. "Harry, please don't tell me I have to leave… I'd just die if I had to go back! Please…" My voice is urgent and very, very soft. I'm too afraid to manage anything above a whisper. He meets my eyes again and smiles reassuringly.

I'm still holding my breath.

"No, Draco. You don't have to go anywhere. What I have to say is about your… It's Lucius. Something's happened." he explains. The air in my lungs is expelled in a great sigh of relief. I grip his arms a moment to calm myself from that last emotional high, then give him a curious look, encouraging further explanation. Harry nods, then takes a breath. "He's dead, Draco."

"WHAT!?" I exclaim. My mouth drops open in utter shock at the very idea. Dead? As in gone for good this time? He can't possibly hurt me anymore… ever? Harry is looking at me with wide eyes, and I slowly come to the awareness that I've been laughing like a madman for the past several moments. But, I don't care. After half a minute or so of this odd display (considering the news that caused it) I throw myself at him, burying my face in the crook of his neck to suppress the lingering giggles. He keeps a tight hold on me, apparently confused.

"I… I'm sorry, Harry." I manage once I've got my composure back. "What happened? How did the bastard die? I want to know."

Harry looks ashamed for a short moment, but he steels himself and speaks. "I killed him, Draco."

"You…" I start, all (well, not ALL, but enough to ruin the mood) joy at the news fled. "Why did you do that, Harry? How?"

He looks at me, determined to meet my eyes no matter what, perhaps to convince me he's telling the truth. "I did it to keep you safe, Draco. I did it to rid the world of a man that was so demented he'd torment his only child. I've never WANTED to kill anyone, Draco… not even Voldemort. But when I saw what happened to you…" Here he paused, closing his eyes a moment. He seemed to be trying to suppress something. "I hope you won't hate me, but I enjoyed every moment of that hunt. I loved knowing that I was hurting the man that hurt you. I relished every scream and I would do it again if I was given the choice. Nothing would please me more than to be the perfect war hero you want me to be… but I'm not perfect. I've committed murder, and I enjoyed it."

I keep eye contact, afraid to ask, but needing to at the same time. "Will you be put in Azkaban..?"

"No. I've already contacted Ron and told him everything. He's making sure the case is assigned to me. I'll rule it a suicide, have one of the house elves verify it, and put the file away for good. Nobody will ever know. They might suspect, but nobody is going to accuse me of anything. Never let it be said that being the big war hero doesn't have it's perks."

"… How?"

"I went to visit Dobby at Hogwarts. He told me where all Lucius's weapons were hidden. I apperated into the Manor and took all the portraits down and into the courtyard, then set them on fire. I located and removed all of his weapons before I woke him. I knocked him around a bit, told him I was doing it for you, then… I threw him off the balcony."

I closed my eyes, trying in vain to absorb all of this. Lucius was dead. Harry killed him for me. He wasn't going to be arrested, and I'm not going to have to leave. It was too good to believe. And yet, here Harry was, promising it was all true. If there was anyone in the world deserving of my trust, it was Harry. Unable to contain it any longer, I look up at him and smile.

"I love you, Harry."

(Okay, that was awesome. My computer is being difficult though. Every time I type 'Merlin" my spellcheck thing keeps changing it to 'Marlin'. If I missed one, please let me know.

For the reviewer that mentioned Stockholm Syndrome, I don't think that's not really possible for Draco to have since he's not really a prisoner. Thanks for the chance to look up something like that though, it was fun!

I'm going to help my Fiance set up his account now, since he wrote me a wonderful story for my birthday, and I just have to have him put it up. I'll give you his author name in the next chapter, or update it into this one later! Ja ne!)


	11. Additions

(I'm beginning to get upset with Draco… he's banging on the inside of my skull again because he doesn't like being so undeniably UKE in this story… But I'm the authoress and I will portray him in ANY manner I see fit! BWAHAHAHAHA!) 

HARRY'S POV

It takes my brain a while to process what I've just heard, but once it clicks I can't seem to find my voice and reply. My brain has completely shut down for the moment, the only thing I am really aware of is the comfortable weight on my lap and the arms around my neck. I feel a pressure on my lips, and I respond to it without thinking, pressing into the mouth that opened so willingly for me. My ability to think reasserted itself when I heard Draco make the barest of noises in his throat, and my hands made their way to silky blonde hair as I tilted his head back to deepen the kiss.

Draco tensed at my enthusiastic intrusion, his tongue stilling. It didn't occur to me that I was making him nervous until he drew back slightly, not enough to break the kiss but enough to get my attention. I broke the contact swiftly, loosening my hold on him. I smiled at the look he gave me. He was blushing, eyes wide and surprised. He was avoiding my gaze, pleased with the response his words had prompted from me but shy because of the eagerness I had displayed.

He wasn't quite ready for that yet.

I pressed my lips to his forehead in apology running my fingers through his hair as I did so. "Sorry. You surprised me. I've been waiting for you to say that for so long..."

He took a deep breath and nodded, a slight smile visible under the curtain of his hair. I squeezed him lightly and sighed in contentment. Neither of us was really inclined to move. This was the most comfortable I had been in a long time. Draco was leaning into me, nearly asleep when it happened.

The damned pager went off. Sighing, I rocked the chair back, then forward to get enough leverage to propel both me and Draco up and I held him close to me for a long moment. He allowed it sleepily. I set him down in his chair thoughtfully, knowing I had to leave soon. I then remembered the house elf comment he had made before. Leaning down with a smile, I asked as nicely as I could.

"Draco, do you remember Dobby?"

He looked up at me with an odd expression. "Yes, but how do you know about him?"

I kissed him on the forehead. "I'm the one that tricked Lucius into freeing him." Draco smiled at me, urging me to tell him more. "Do you remember second year and the business with the Chamber of Secrets? Well…" I related the tale of the Diary and the sock, pausing near the end so Draco could stop laughing about the trick. When I told him how Lucius was then blasted down a flight of stairs and into a wall by Dobby after that I had to catch him to keep him from falling out of the chair.

I laughed, "I thought you'd like that."

He kept snickering for a while longer, then looked up at me with a smile. "Okay, so what brought that on?" he asked.

"You said we needed a house elf, Draco. I was going to ask Dobby to come here and help us out." I explained.

Draco's face fell. "I don't need help…" he objected unconvincingly. "I just need company when you're not here. And don't look at me like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like you do when you're going to agree just to make me happy… that indulgent mother look!"

"I'm not giving you an 'indulgent mother' look." I protested, purposely giving him an indulgent mother look. He scowled at me, then in a display of supreme Malfoy-ness, balled his right hand and punched me in the gut. I let my breath out in a 'whoosh' and leaned over with the force of it. Then I glared at him and caught a handful of his hair in retaliation, pulling him up with just enough force to make him yelp. His middle now within reach, I proceeded to tickle him into submission. He convulsed with suppressed laughter, refusing out of principle to let it out until I manipulated his weak spot, just to the right of his naval.

"AGHHH!!! Harry! Stop… (_giggle) _This isn't… fair!" he managed to sputter out between laughs.

"You hit me, Draco." I scolded, laughing myself. "Either face the consequences or surrender!" I tickled him mercilessly, manipulating every sensitive spot on his torso and stomach until he was nearly in a seizure-like state.

"N… N-N-NEVER!!!" he shouted and levered himself over the other side of the chair. He hit the floor and spent nearly two seconds catching his breath. Just as I rounded the chair to get at him he kicked out and I went tumbling to the carpet. "HA!" he gasped, then fell back, laying on the carpet with a very exhausted, yet satisfied expression. He panted lightly in the aftermath of our playful wrestling match.

We lay there for a moment, now totally comfortable in our silence. Then it happened…

The damned pager went off.

We both sat up and glared daggers at it as if it were capable of seeing how upset we were. I sighed and turned it off, knowing exactly what I was needed at the Ministry for. Draco was looking nervously at me, thinking I was going to leave right at that moment. I smiled at him. "I've got about an hour before I need to be there. Let's go get Dobby, shall we?"

DRACO'S POV

I gave an exaggerated sigh, thankful that he wasn't going to leave me here alone again, but having mixed feelings knowing that I needed constant supervision. I collapsed to the floor again, beginning to like the feeling of the thick carpeting on my back. Harry stood, holding out a hand to me and I took it gratefully. My stomach muscles were sore from laughing so much and I didn't fancy trying to get up myself… though I was consoled by the fact that I had clearly won the scuffle. I told him so.

"I won." I said mechanically. Harry gave me a steadying hug, as I had begun to sway dizzily after so much sudden activity.

"I beg to differ. I won… I just didn't feel like getting back up, that's all." he claimed in an overly convinced tone.

"Sure you did…" I scoffed sarcastically.

He nudged me, "Get dressed. I don't have much time."

I hurried upstairs and donned my favorite outfit, one that Harry had picked out for me in a muggle store called 'Hot Topic'. The pants were black and baggy, with way to many pockets for my liking. They showed off my ass though, and rode low on my hips. The shirt I put on first was made of black fishnet with a thumb-hole in the long sleeves. Over that one I donned a perfectly shaded green baby-tee that had originally said 'spoiled' in shiny silver lettering, but I had magicked into saying 'Slytherin' instead. Harry had nearly laughed himself into a coma when he saw what I had done to it. I laced up the calf-high black boots and combed my hair back into the neat cascade of platinum blonde that now fell past my shoulders and to the middle of my chest. Oh, yeah.

I would have been a sexy chick…

I tucked the comb and a hair band into one of the many pockets in my pants and headed downstairs, debating whether or not to tie my hair back. Harry grinned when he saw me, literally looking me over from bottom to top. I blushed under his inspection and motioned impatiently toward the fireplace, wanting to go and get this over with.

"Alright. You first." He moved aside for me. I stuck my hand into the floo powder and stood in the fireplace.

"… wait, we can't use the floo network to get inside Hogwarts, Harry!"

"I know. Go to Diagon Alley. Dobby should be waiting for us there." he explained.

"How do you know this?" I asked, knowing he hadn't sent any owls or anything since he got home.

"Dumbledore. He doesn't miss a thing."

I shrugged and complied, waiting for Harry in the Leakey Cauldron. As I waited I was startled by a squeaky voice from behind me on a table.

"Master Draco!"

I whirled around to see a very happy Dobby, carrying a small bag that looked as if it were filled to the top with nothing but mismatched socks. He leapt off the table and came up to me, grasping my hand and shaking it roughly.

"Dobby is very happy to see Master Draco is well, sir! Dobby was worried for him when he heard Master Draco was missing! Harry Potter is the greatest wizard of all, taking care of Master Draco so well!" he tittered in obvious excitement.

"It's nice to see you too, Dobby." I laughed, letting him shake my hand. Harry came out and laughed at us, then sat at the table Dobby had been standing on, waving us over. I sat next to him, smiling as Dobby hefted the bag up onto the table with great effort, then climbed into the seat on Harry's left.

(I just had an odd thought… what would the wording be like if I wrote a chapter in Dobby's POV? O.o; )

"Dobby," Harry greeted him. "I have something to ask you."

"Anything for Harry Potter! Dobby would give his hands if Harry Potter only asked…" he began, sounding very much like a kamikaze.

Harry blanched, "Er… that won't be necessary, Dobby. You see, Draco and I have been staying in the Black house all by ourselves and we were wondering if you would consider…"

"Oh, yes!" Dobby interrupted loudly, irritating the tables nearest to us. "Dobby would be most DELIGHTED to serve Harry Potter and Master Draco!"

We both laughed at his enthusiasm, and Harry patted him on the shoulder. "Alright then. If you wouldn't mind coming with us now, I have some business to attend to. You will, of coarse, be paid the same wage as you were receiving from Dumbledore, as well as your Sundays off…"

At this point Dobby was practically bouncing on the table, squeaking with glee. Soon we were back and Harry left for the Ministry, giving me a deep kiss beforehand, which Dobby observed with wide eyes. Once he was gone, I turned to see a smirking house elf staring at me. "What?" I asked flippantly, and went up to my room, smirking myself.

It felt good to be home…

(Well, wasn't that a fun little wrestling match? Draco is recovering nicely, ne? Maybe he'll stop distracting me…

Update on my sister's pregnancy… she has now reached the 'It's not fair that I'm getting so fat' stage. She called a while ago, crying because she couldn't bend over to get anything without bending her knees. My sister weighed like, 115 lbs. Before, and now she's gained 15... Most of it up front. She's really very cute when she cries for no reason.

Got to go! Bye!)


	12. Midnight Musings

(Well, a snow day for a college student is a good opportunity to release repressed creativity. My fiancé's link is on my profile page, but I'll put it up here too, since nobody seems to have noticed it. This was my birthday present people! T.T Give him some reviews, he's a good writer!

His Author name is Extreme Groping , and that's my fault...

>. The stupid thing won't let me put the link up! Please go to my profile page and use the link there... (bows) please?

Don't worry, Harry's already got Draco's mind to trust him, now he has to work on his body. It sound weird, but victims of abuse can be totally trusting of a person, but their body will still react violently to a touch similar to or in the same area as the abuse they endured. That reaction triggers an emotional episode that can range anywhere from trembling slightly to potentially deadly defensive actions. This must be factored into the story, since it's how these things really work.)

**HARRY'S POV**

I can't sleep.

I can scarcely believe the miraculous transformation that has taken place in Draco in the past few weeks. His demeanor had completely turned around in the days following his father's 'suicide'. He was overall less guarded and had become prone to teasing me at completely random moments. The subjects of said teasing were as equally difficult to predict as the moments he chose to do it, which lead me to believe he was making up for lost time.

The first visible sign of his improving health besides the frequent smile was the fact that he had gained just enough weight to look like himself again, plus a few extra pounds in his hips and bum, which only served to make his naturally slender figure more attractive with the extra curve. His ribs were no longer visible, and his hair had regained it's natural healthy sheen. He had taken to keeping it in a braid, letting his long bangs hang loose at his ears. He was now totally compliant when I decided to play with his hair, and I never had to chase him around the house to achieve said preening anymore, not that I would have minded...

Draco's eyes were still the same neutral grey that they had always been, yet they seemed to have taken on a personality of their own, no longer belying the emotions contained within. Draco had undeniably become as able to keep the mirth out of his eyes as Dumbledore, which had taken some getting used to at first. It was an extremely endearing trait for a Malfoy though, and I learned to love it very quickly.

I believed firmly in the theory that repressed stress had been the cause of his weight staying off even during the period of nearly a year and a half when he was staying with me and had been eating very well, yet hadn't gained more than a few pounds. It had pained me to know that he had been there that long without improving very much in such an extended period. But he was better now, and that was all that mattered.

Of all the improvements he'd made so far two were the most prominent in my mind. First of them was the fact that Draco's natural catlike grace in movement had returned full-force, making his walk and every solitary motion he made seem purposeful and planned out years in advance. I had found myself staring many times, having to force myself to look away before Draco caught me.

The next, and most attractive in my opinion, was that damned mischievous and slightly evil imp-like smirk that had infuriated me so at Hogwarts. I had not been surprised when I discovered it's effect on me now was... quite the opposite as it had been before.

Dobby was as annoyingly happy as ever, often speaking at great length to me about Draco and how he was such a 'good little master to poor Dobby". According to Dobby, Draco hadn't become the prat I knew in school until just before seven years old. That's when the abuse had begun, instead of the complete disregard for the child's presence Lucius had been exhibiting before. I had known it had started fairly early... but seven?

And that's why I'm awake. I've been loosing sleep over that since I heard it. Knowing it had been happening for a while and knowing exactly how long were two completely different things.

Draco had been twenty when he arrived in my office so long ago. That meant that he had been put through those horrible things for a little over thirteen years.

Thirteen years.

It's a wonder he kept any semblance of sanity at all.

Especially after thirteen years.

That's longer than Sirius was locked up in Azkaban.

I sigh and turn toward him, shocked to see his eyes open. Was I keeping him awake somehow? He looks sad. I don't like that. I reach out in invitation and he quickly scoots over to me, burying himself in my chest. He sighs lightly.

"Draco... I'm so sorry."

**DRACO'S POV**

He isn't sleeping. I can tell, because his breathing is lighter than it is when he sleeps. He isn't holding me as tight as he does when he sleeps. He isn't holding me at all... It scares me. Maybe I've done something wrong? No. He would tell me if I had. His mind is occupied. Though with what is beyond me.

We had a wonderful day. Harry let me cook breakfast again, as Dobby was just as skeptical about the muggle contraptions in the kitchen as I had been when I first got here. My mouth tipped up a bit at that. Dobby had practically destroyed the microwave when he forgot to take the fork off the plate before he turned it on. Harry thought it was funny, but the noise it made had scared me half to death.

Dobby did everything for us that he could manage without overworking his poor little heart. Dobby was really quite old for a house elf. He had been my father's caretaker when he was a child, then mine, and now he was with me and Harry here. He was at least sixty. Dobby worked way too hard.

We went shopping again, Harry seeming to have more fun buying me things than buying things for himself. We didn't get anything today though, but for a necklace that I saw and nearly squeaked over like a teenaged girl. I stopped myself just in time, but Harry saw the look I gave it and knew I had to have it. It was silver, thin chain with a snake and a dragon twined together on the charm in the center. The dragon had sapphires in the eyes and the snake had emeralds. It was perfect.

I reach down to my neck and finger the charm delicately. Harry really was too good to me. I felt horrible sometimes letting him spoil me like this. I didn't deserve it after all... but he insisted. If I told him that I didn't want anything, he'd always get me something anyway. It wasn't unusual for him to bring home several gifts for me a day. I knew that his affection for me was... more than what I was prepared to deal with at the moment. The kisses had become more intense lately...

I blushed. The kissing I could definitely deal with... it was the rest of it that had me so frightened. I'm sure that anyone but Harry wouldn't believe me when I said it but... I don't like to be touched. It makes me feel like I'm in danger... like a trained response to a certain situation. When someone... anyone touches me I feel this strong anticipation of... pain. Severe pain.

Harry doesn't quite have that effect though. It really depends on the situation with him. He touches me all the time, but it never makes me uncomfortable. A grasp of the hand or shoulder, pulling me close to him at night... it never scares me. The kisses feel nice. Very nice... but sometimes when they get more intense than I'm accustomed I can't help but get nervous. I've pulled away from him so many times, feeling guilty for doing so, only to see him smile at me in understanding.

I love Harry. I know he would never hurt me. I'm just not quite ready to let him touch me.

Not like that. Not yet.

He turns toward me and I start slightly. Well, he knows I'm not asleep now. I'm about to say something when he holds his arms out to me, and I sigh when comfortably encased in his embrace. This feels good. His hold becomes tighter and I look at him curiously.

"Draco... I'm so sorry." he says.

I lean up and kiss him, ruffling his hair. "Why, Harry?"

"Because your life was so much worse than mine... and I never noticed. Nobody did. Had I paid more attention rather than being completely absorbed in my own problems..."

"You could have what?" I interrupted. "Taken on both Lucius and Voldemort to help someone that had been torturing you since the first day of school? You had it just as hard as I did, Harry. Nothing that happened to me was in any way your fault."

"But..."

"Shut up. I swear you take some kind of perverse pleasure in blaming yourself for everything." I snap, aggravated that he was doing it yet again.

He glared at me, then sighed. "You're not the Malfoy I met at Hogwarts."

"Thank Merlin." I mumble into his chest wryly. He chuckles. "Are you going to sleep, or are you going to sulk some more?"

"I'm not sulking..." he argues weakly.

"Yes you are. I can't sleep unless you do, Harry." I inform him sleepily. I'm about to pass out as it is, but I want him to sleep too.

"You win..." he whispers, kissing the top of my head. "Go to sleep, Draco. I'm not going anywhere."

"Hmmm..." I close my eyes, pulling the blanket tighter around us.

**HARRY'S POV**

His breathing has evened out. I'm getting drowsy at last. It's hard to tell if it's because I'm tired or because I told Draco I would sleep. I can never tell whether I do things for him or me sometimes. It means he has power over me. I smile, yawning soon after.

Better not let him know that.

Oh well. If he's not bothered about it too much, then I've really no right to be.

I hold him tighter, burying my face in his hair, which has become tangled during the night. I'll have fun brushing it in the morning.

(Lack of ideas due to brain freeze. Regardless, the description of Draco's recovering in the beginning was awesome. Read my Fiancé's story. I loved my present! )


	13. LEMON

HARRY'S POV

Draco was nervous. It wasn't normal for Draco to be so nervous around me, but there was different atmosphere in our house as of late. Two days ago, after sharing a long bath together, I had asked Draco if he was ready to try and become more... intimate. Draco had agreed. And so for the past three days Draco and I had been sleeping in his old room, as I was carefully preparing our bedroom for the delicate activities to come. Draco was comforted by that, I could tell. I knew that he would be more relaxed in a familiar place, and the bed we had shared for nearly two years would no doubt provide a calming atmosphere for the skittish blonde.

Draco was gradually being introduced to his body once again as he waited for me to finish my meticulous task of conditioning our room. Since he had agreed, Draco was allowing me more and more leeway every night when we kissed. I would touch him all over, always delicately, always careful to watch for signs that I was going too far. Draco on his part had been doing perfectly. It may have taken me a bit to encourage Draco enough to be comfortable with a few things, but the smaller man was always willing to try.  
Last night Draco and I had come to terms with the fact that the blonde trembled. It wasn't something he could stop, and it did not mean that he was afraid. It was simply something he did when he was touched intimately. It had made us both nervous at first, when Draco didn't understand why it was happening, but now we quite enjoyed it. Draco had finally learned to recognize the difference between nervous trembles, and eager trembles. He no longer associated it with his abuse. He even laughed at it sometimes, remembering how it would have caused him to pull away from me when we had started feathery touches no more than a few months ago. Draco seemed to find it so amusing now that he knew what it was.

It had taken much coaxing and more than a few bribes, but I had finally gotten Draco to a point where he was comfortable sleeping with me nearly nude. Draco still slept in his boxers, but he allowed me to be nude and still snuggled up close to me all night. It was an enormous step in trust for Draco, who had refused to even wear pajamas with short sleeves when we had begun sharing a bed, and had insisted I do the same for a short while. I relished this fact, remembering how close to terrified Draco had been that first night when I'd asked Draco to let me hold him as he slept. 

My brave Dragon had adjusted so very well to all of this. 

Now he just needed to keep himself calm during our next endeavor. I would just have to trust him to trust me.

DRACO'S POV

I enter the room slowly, already shaking despite my initial intent to remain calm. I knew I was afraid, but I also knew that I had no real reason to be. Harry wouldn't hurt me. He'd die first... and I HAD agreed to this after all. I surveyed the room, looking it all over appreciatively. It was undoubtedly still our room, but there were a lot of changes that made it a much more appropriate place for some serious fucking. 

The curtains on the four poster had been taken off and replaced with sheer drapes that shimmered in the light of the sweet smelling candles that had been placed and lit in every conceivable place in the room that a candle could possibly sit. All unnecessary furniture like the desk and chairs had been taken out, giving the room a more open and inviting feel to it. A fireplace had been transfigured between the now completely blocked windows, and it burned brightly, filling the room with the sweet smell of burning wood. Even the carpet on the floor had been transfigured to be fluffier, and I knelt to feel it with my fingers, infinitely impressed and flattered at all the trouble Harry had gone to just to make me happy.

"Harry..." I whisper, awed. He chuckles and slides off the bed, already naked and glowing bronze in the flickering light. I stand abruptly, not wanting Harry to touch me just yet. "Wait..." I say suddenly, and he stops. "I want to tell you that I appreciate all this, Harry. You've done so much for me, and not just because you wanted to sleep with me or keep me safe to satisfy some sort of heroic impulse, but because you wanted to make me happy. You want to be with me as an equal, not a superior or a protector. I just want to let you know that I'm grateful... even if I don't always show it."

Harry looked heartbroken for a moment, then smiled and came over to pull me into a hug. I blushed, fully aware that he was naked and hid my face in his chest. We just stood there for a long while, listening to the sound of the fire crackle. I was trembling, pressing myself closer to him in an effort to lessen it as much as I could. Harry squeezed me lightly, then pushed me back to look at me.

"We don't have to do this today, Draco. It won't kill me to wait a little longer if you want." he assured me, but I shook my head.

"No. I'll never be more ready than this... and letting me think about it any longer will just make me more nervous." 

Harry nods. I yelp slightly as he picks me up and carries me to the bed, setting me down in the center of it. I lay still while he pulls the sheer curtains shut around us, then drapes himself over me. For an instant I expect him to start pulling my clothes off right then, but he buries his fingers in my hair instead, leaning my head back for some of the most gentle and chaste kisses he's ever given me. I soon get impatient with those simple kisses, and deepen the contact myself. It's only when he chuckles that I realize that's what he'd wanted.

He's letting me lead...?

Hesitantly, I turn my face to break the lip lock, then tilt my head up to expose my neck. Harry immediately obliges, bathing my flesh lovingly with his tongue and lips, sucking gently, but never enough to leave marks. I can't help the little noises that I'm making, but it doesn't matter. For once I don't have to try and keep myself quiet out of principle. He stops at the neck of my robe and rests his hand on the clasp.

"May I?" he asks, grinning. I laugh breathlessly, nodding my permission.

Harry unbuckles the clasp and pulls the robe free, lifting me with a hand on the small of my back to pull it out from under me. He attacks my neck again and I mewl, arching into wherever his hands rest as he undresses the rest of me. I can feel myself blushing all over as my body is revealed completely. Harry's hands are wandering everywhere, pressing and caressing at every remotely sensitive place he could find. For a moment I wonder how he's managed to memorize all my 'buttons' already, then my mind floats back to the memories of our snogging sessions... and the little noises and twitches I had displayed as he tested me almost too gently to notice. He'd been studying my body for months now, and I hadn't even noticed.

I've begun to tremble and he pauses, asking with his eyes what I'm feeling and if I want him to stop. I give him a shy smile and pull him back down to kiss me with my hands in his hair. We kiss for a long time, so long that there is a noticeable rise in the temperature in the room either from all the miniature flames inside, or from us. Either way it's making me pleasantly dizzy, and I soon go limp and just let Harry do what he wants, mouth working with unbelievable skill all over my body.

HARRY'S POV

I restrain my chuckles as Draco writhes underneath me while I explore his stomach and chest with my tongue. He's responding beautifully. I'm not worried about him being nervous anymore, and I certainly can't believe that I'm finally going to get to show him what sex is really supposed to feel like. And if all goes well... maybe he'll be up for a bit more in the morning.

Without thinking I close my teeth gently over a rosy nipple, and Draco jerks. I hadn't even pinched him, but he was now arching away from me. "Draco?" I ask.

He looks up at me with wide eyes. "Don't bite... please?" he whispers. I nod and slowly urge him back down to his previous spot with my hands. He complies, and relaxes as I begin my laving again. No biting... got it.

I make my way down until I'm working at the inside of his thighs. He arches almost delicately into and then away from the touch, as if he can't make up his mind whether he wants more or not. I lift one of his legs up over my shoulder and pull up a bit, pulling up on his hip. He gives me an odd look, then moves onto his side.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

I smile at him. "Am I scaring you?" I ask. He blushes a bit deeper, then shakes his head. "Then just relax."

He finds a comfortable way to lie then settles, eying me suspiciously. I give one long lick from the back of his left knee to his shaft, and all the way up to the head. He shudders and moans, grasping the pillow tightly, making the most adorable little gasps as I continue working the length with my mouth. He's still nervous, and it shows in how long he lasts, spurting a stream of pearly white liquid into my mouth soon after.

His musky, salty flavor is divine and I lick my lips to savor it, meeting his eyes a moment later. He seems surprised, and I lean up to face him directly. "You taste wonderful." I inform him, kissing him deeply so he can taste himself. He pulls away suddenly, making a face.

"Ech... no I don't." he states adorably, then pouts at me when I start laughing.

"I guess it's an acquired taste." I nuzzle his neck, waiting for him to comment. He's a bit uncomfortable laying like this, especially since my face is buried in his neck and his leg is still up over my shoulder, making his widely spread bottom press up against my hip. I'm shifting ever so slightly to create friction, and he's pushing into the contact one second, and away from it the next.

"Harry..." he moans, "...um, what now?"

I grin. He's so unbelievably adorable like this. But he had asked, and I intended to give him an appropriate answer. Pulling back to look at him, I kiss him once more and grin impishly. "Hold on tight." I inform him, then worm my way back down and press my tongue up and under his scrotum. He stiffens and gasps, wriggling, and this time I can't tell if he's trying to pull away or not.

My tongue moves down and soon finds his most intimate place, pressing and laving at the tightly pinched sphincter. Draco yells, though not unfavorably, and pushes down on my face. I answer with a push of my own, thrusting my tongue as far inside him as I can get it and jerking it around to press at Draco's inner walls. 

DRACO'S POV

My head is spinning. My first climax had erased any doubts about this, and now that Harry's face was buried in my ass, doing the most wonderful things to me with his tongue, I simply wasn't able to think clearly. My vocabulary seemed to have significantly diminished as well, the only sounds I am capable of uttering not even forming comprehensible words. Harry seemed to understand them perfectly though, and pulled out just long enough to lick at one of his fingers and have it join with his mouth to torture me.

They thrust in and out in alternating rhythms, making my hips jerk spasmodically, unsure of which rhythm to follow. A second finger joins the first, and I yelp at the cold, slick substance that joined the probing digits. I was getting hard again, and my shaft bounced helplessly and untouched in the air. Three fingers, and Harry had stopped using his tongue and was just watching me twitch and thrash about on the bed, pulling the blanket out of it's neatly arranged place and grasping it tightly in my hands.

Four fingers. I felt undeniably full, but it didn't feel at all invasive or painful. I knew I was more than ready, but Harry wasn't stopping. His free hand went to grasp my shaft and I shrieked, knowing that I would come soon if he kept it up. But Harry would be left wanting if that happened, and I certainly wasn't willing to suck him off after being forced to do it to my father so many times. The very thought was nauseating. 

"Stop!"

He did, and I tried to catch my breath. He waited patiently as I drifted down and gained enough sense to sit up. I was panting and flushed all over, and I turned an even deeper shade of pink as Harry's eyes trailed all over me shamelessly and appreciatively.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, Draco." he informed me, licking his lips with a hungry look in his eyes.

He'd been torturing me on purpose! Just so that he could watch me writhe! Beside myself with embarrassed rage, I shoved him down on the bed, straddling him and pinning his hands up over his head. He blinked up at me innocently. "Something wrong, Draco?" he grinned.

"Fuck you, Potter!" I yelled, then proceeded to demonstrate just that. I had to push slightly to get the head in, and gasped at the sting. Harry was bigger than he looked... probably due to the impressive amount of body hair he sported with little to no shame at all. I pause, shifting my hips ever-so-slightly to get over first entry pain before relaxing my thighs and impaling myself slowly, pausing whenever it got to be too much. 

Even after four fingers Harry was still big. I bit my lip, feeling a bit intimidated. I would have to get Harry to trim his hair to get an accurate idea of his size later. Right now I had to be careful. The last three inches I took all at once, whimpering at the sheer girth of the length inside me. I wasn't entirely prepared for it, and started sharply. 

Harry trembled, eyes closed, and gritting his teeth from the strain of holding still. He gently reached up and grasped my shoulders. "Hey…" he says gently.

I turn my glazed eyes to Harry, expression belying nothing of my inner turmoil. This was scary. It felt good, but it was scary, and I was more anxious about continuing then I thought I would be. Harry knew, and even now he was willing to compromise with me.

"Am I hurting you? We can stop if you want, Draco. I won't be angry."

My eyes widen, amazed at Harry's control. "You… won't?"

HARRY'S POV

My body was screaming at me for allowing the words to pass my lips, but I still managed to speak softly and encouragingly to the blonde. "Of course I won't, Draco. Nothing will have changed. There's so much more to what I feel for you than physical love, Draco. If you told me right now that you never wanted to do this again, I'd still love you. I couldn't stop loving you if I tried."

Draco was openly crying now. "I... I know... Oh, Merlin, Harry. I love you."

Hearing those three words made me smile, and I leaned up to kiss him. As I did the angle pulled me out of Draco's body enough so that the head of my cock brushed his prostate… sending zigzagging lightning bolts of feeling down the blonde's spine. Unconsciously Draco pushed down, and it happened again. I gasped at the movement, my own pleasure causing me to shift quickly, and Draco stiffened as his legs tightened in ecstasy, squeezing my sides.

I leaned back, an apology on the tip of my tongue for thrusting without warning, afraid that the sudden stiffening indicated pain. Draco quickly recovered, grasping my shoulders and kissing me with bruising force. He gyrated his hips haltingly, until he was positive he was accustomed to my size, then rode me in earnest, forcefully digging his perfectly manicured nails into my shoulders.

DRACO'S POV

Once I got started my rhythm was flawless, and Harry couldn't do anything that might disrupt me, so he just sat back and enjoyed the ride. I could hardly believe that I was so obscenely talented at this, and had been so frightened just moments before. I wasn't about to argue as I felt the familiar pressure building in my abdomen. Clenching his eyes shut, Harry bit his bottom lip, utilizing the pain to hold off his orgasm as long as possible.

I felt like I was on fire. Never had I felt so complete and comfortable in my own body. I didn't feel dirty anymore, nor was I afraid. Liquid passion pumped furiously through my veins like mellifluous fire and ice, threatening to overwhelm my very soul and make me loose my sense of self in it's depths. I rode the waves of ecstasy until I felt I would burst from the force of it pulsing inside me. 

But, something wasn't right. I knew exactly what my orgasm felt like when it was upon me… I'd tried to suppress it often enough after all. I could feel it scratching desperately just beneath the surface of my skin like a beast trying to escape it bonds… and yet, it wasn't happening.

I looked down at Harry, confused for a moment. Why wasn't it working? When Harry opened those impossibly deep emerald orbs and they met my sapphire ones, it hit me full force. 

that's it…

"H-Harry! I w-want… you…" I gasped weakly, furious that my voice refused to obey me. I didn't have to finish though. Harry understood.

He growled, turned us over without pulling out of my body and thrust with enough force to propel me into a fit of screams that at any other time would have signified a slow and excruciating death. It didn't take long for me to reach his peak under such punishing thrusts, and Harry watched with no small degree of interest in exactly how my face would look as I came. My entire body became extremely pliant, quite at odds with the usual stiffening I displayed at any other time during sex. I closed my eyes, opened my mouth in the barest of tiny gasps and shuddered.

I literally saw stars.

HARRY'S POV

I was so absorbed in watching such an impossibly beautiful display that I nearly missed feeling my own orgasm. I winced and hissed with the sensation, then leaned down to capture the trembling lips of my lover in a slow, sensual kiss that made the descent from lovemaking just as enjoyable as the act itself.

Draco panted and lay totally limp but for the motion of his head and neck as he returned the kiss with just as much passion and care as I was giving it. When I pulled away I saw tears glistening on his cheeks in the flickering candlelight, and I kissed them away.

"Did I hurt you, Draco?"

He laughed at me and smiled, flicking his tongue out to tease my bottom lip.

"You're heavy, Harry." he informed me with a smirk.

"So sorry." I rolled my eyes and rolled off of him, laying beside him and pulling him into a hug. He nuzzled into my chest and yawned cutely, humming his satisfaction. "Tired, Draco?" He nodded. I waved my hand and the candles and fireplace snuffed out. Draco lifted his head and looked around lazily, then pulled the blanket over us and settled down to sleep. As he drifted off I could swear I heard him mutter something akin to...

"Bloody sorcerer..."

( I have reached a decision! Harry Potter is no longer a wizard, he's too strong for that designation anymore. Just before this chapter the Ministry declared him a Sorcerer, which is kind of the legal wizarding term for a walking magical power generator. ) 


End file.
